


A Candle to Light You

by Anon_Writer



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, IT Chapter 2
Genre: Blood and Gore, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Not Beta Read, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Slow Burn, i'm not a writer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon_Writer/pseuds/Anon_Writer
Summary: A young detective with the ability to perceive memories and emotional state of others finds herself digging into the many disappearances in the small town of Derry. Unfortunately for her, something has taken notice.Takes place during IT Chapter 2 but will stray a bit.10/02/2020: Now with a cover image!
Relationships: Pennywise (IT) & Original Female Character(s), Pennywise (IT)/Reader, Robert "Bob" Gray/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am by no means a writer. This is the first story I've written and I'm sure the grammar isn't the best. This is just an idea I've been playing with for a while and finally got the courage to write down. I hope someone enjoys it. I don't have a name in mind for the main character so I'm just putting (Y/N).

The commotion had awoken her. Air thickened with hatred and violence wafted past her harden nostrils, trickling down her airway and causing something inside her to awaken and hum once more. Her body began to stir, losing its dark, stone texture which matched her surroundings and softening to pale flesh. She inhaled deeply, taking in the musty, humid air that carried a sent that she couldn’t find words to describe but immediately awoke the most intense feeling of hunger she had ever felt. Her grogginess quickly left her as saliva spilled from her mouth and sharp fangs began to erupt from her gums. She shook herself, causing the soft sound of bells to bounce around the cavern as she loosened her stiff joints. It felt like she hadn’t moved in years.

She slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Despite being in complete darkness she could clearly see old rock formations jutting out of the earth into unnatural spikes. She raised her head to the opening above her, sniffing the air carefully to determine where the delicious smell was coming from. She quickly locked on to the source and allowed her physical form to evaporate, skin floating away like embers from a fire to revealing three lights that danced with one another. 

She quickly shot up through the opening into a large area littered with forgotten children’s toys and clothing. An old circus wagon adorning a stage lay in the middle of the large cistern, junk intertwining around it to form a precarious spire. She was in an old sewer system. The smell of decay and rot was heavy in the air, yet it proved no hindrance to her following the enticing smell. Her lights became translucent as she darted into a pipe, racing towards her prey. She longed to sink her teeth into whatever was producing that smell.

Her teeth..

No, this wasn’t her she realised. She had almost become lost to the sensations that she was experiencing through another. She usually had no problem separating herself from the memories that she was experiencing, but this was different. This felt too real, too intense to be a memory. She didn’t remember touching anyone to access a memory, so what was this?

She emerged from a drainpipe and raced along a riverbank, heading towards a bridge where a dispute was taking place. The strong sent of blood permitted the air. Such a scent should have disgusted her, but it only made her more aware of the hunger that gripped her being. It’s hunger.

She settled within the brush along the riverbank and watched carefully as a group of people fought above her. She sifted through the emotions among them and began to understand the cause of the violence. She wanted to intervene, but she was bound to the form she currently inhabited, and that form couldn’t care less about the dispute. It was only concerned with satiating its hunger.

Suddenly there was a loud splash as one of the people fell into the water, thrown over the edge of the bridge by the others. 

“No Adrian!” A man cried.

She could hear a bunch of them flee the scene as someone scrambled to the edge of the bridge, crying out to the person in the water. “Nooo!”

She became a physical form once again and walked slowly towards the water. She couldn’t help but notice that she was much taller than her own body. The water was too rough to make out her form, but she could see the reflection of two yellow orbs looking back at her. She glanced at a small object caught in the current; a hat that read “I ♥Derry”. 

Derry? She thought. 

The name was not familiar to her. She kept the word in mind as her eyes quickly darted to Adrian surfacing, flailing his arms as best he could. He struggled to keep his head above the water as the current slowly carried him away, his injuries making swimming difficult. She began to walk along the shore, following him as he was dragged farther away from his partner. Adrian spotted the form that she was currently inhabiting on the shore and desperately called out.

“Help me!” He cried as loud as he could.

That scent. It was coming from him. At that moment she truly realized what was about to happen, what this thing was going to do to satiate its hunger. She tried to break free from this appalling experience, but it had a hold of her. Why couldn’t she break free? She always had control of how much she saw. She tried to fight it, but she felt herself slowly slipping back into the mindset of whatever this creature was, its desires becoming her own.

Adrian gulped loudly for air as he bobbed in the water.

“Help me!” He sputtered weakly. “Somebody fuckin help me!”

She crouched down and extended her gloved hand to Adrian. He grabbed on for dear life, coughing up water and fighting to pull himself towards the shore. She easily pulled him in with one hand, like he weighed nothing, and threw his arm over her shoulder. Carefully she stood up, supporting the man’s weight just in time to see that his partner had arrived on the other side of the river, a look of relief spread on his face seeing Adrian out of the water but quickly turning to concern at the sight of her form.

“Adrian?” He called, giving her a wary gaze.

At that moment a malicious grin spread on her face and she felt her fangs extend from her gums once more. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she opened her mouth wide, allowing it to expand to an unnatural size before biting down into Adrian’s chest. Adrian let out a cry of pain, but it did nothing to persuade her to stop. 

“NOOO!” The man cried from the other side of the river.

The taste was like nothing she had ever experienced. She needed more. She bit down harder and pulled, Adrian’s flesh giving away easily as his screams turned into bloody gurgles caught in his throat. She turned back to his hysterical partner across the river, her face covered in Adrian’s blood. She chomped loudly and swallowed the chunk of flesh hole, making a show of it before conjuring up a sea of red balloons to obstruct her performance. She dragged the body far into the brush before beginning to feed again as the other man's cries echoed into the night.

The sound of Adrian’s bones being crushed under her powerful jaws was what untangled her mind. She could taste his blood and marrow in her mouth, feel his flesh stuck between her teeth. What horrified her the most was that it tasted good. She tried to rip herself free, her mind screaming for release from this horror. The creature she inhabited paused, seeming confused for a moment as it’s vision, her vision began to split before that malicious grin adorned its face once more.

It knew she was watching.

Letting out a high pitch, but masculine giggle the creature slowly stood upright, looming over the mass of gore. Its laughter quickly began to distort into an animalistic growl.

“There are no observers here little peeper...” 

She felt herself fall through the earth into endless blackness, hurled from the creature’s body.

“You’ll need to dirty your hands eventually.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) suddenly shot up from her bed, eyes darting across her dark bedroom. She was drenched in sweat and entangled in her sheets, her breath ragged and shaky. She tried to steady herself, but all she could taste was the metal tang of blood in her mouth. Frantically, she unraveled herself from her bed and darted to her bathroom, taking a still tangled bed sheet halfway with her. She barely made it to the toilet before she began to throw up violently. Relief hit her when all she saw was last night’s dinner instead of blood and flesh.

After a few moments of dry heaving (Y/N) leaned back and allowed her head to rest on the bathroom wall, her breathing slowly steadying as she tried to push the images of that horrid dream from her mind.

“What the fuck was that?”


	2. Chapter 2

Needles to say, (Y/N) didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. She sat on the bathroom floor for a while, trying to wrap her head around what she had experienced. It couldn’t have been anything more than a dream, she convinced herself. She had never seen the memories of others before without touching them, let alone experiencing them in her dreams. Plus, whatever that thing was, it clearly wasn’t human. It was just her recent trauma manifesting itself into fucked up dreams for her to deal with, she thought, and left it at that. She had been pushing recent events to the back of her mind as much as she could.

(Y/N) picked herself up off the ground and turned the shower on. There was no point of sleeping now. She didn’t want to dwell on it any longer and keeping busy was the best way to do that. As she waited for the water to run hot, she stripped her pyjamas off her clammy skin and tossed them aside. 

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her appearance. She looked at a particular scar that adorned her skin. She ran the pads of her fingers over a healed bullet wound on her left shoulder, a memento to the first cases she worked. She smiled a bit, thinking back to past events. She was a new detective in homicide and had not yet earned the respect of her peers. She was the youngest person to get their shield in the department’s history. Everyone thought she was just a rookie with nonsense ideas. 

Everyone except her partner that is. 

Detective Johansen had been in the department only 6 months longer than her, so he knew what it was like to not be taken seriously. When she told him her theory about a serial killer that conflicted with the one their department was working on, he agreed to help her. Together, they tracked down the killer to his home. When the killer pulled a gun on Johansen, (Y/N) took a bullet for him and shot the killer square in the chest, bringing the lengthy case to a close. The two of them earned their respect in homicide and were inseparable ever since.

The mirror had begun to fog when (Y/N) finally snapped back to the present. She shook her head and stepped into the shower, beginning her morning routine at the early time of 1AM.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) was the first one into the department that morning. She spent some time cleaning and doing tasks around her apartment, even going for a walk, but she became restless and decided to head into work early. She was well liked in her department, but that wasn’t hard to do when she could read the emotions of everyone around her. If need be, she could brush past them, getting a small glimpse of a memory. If she could prolong contact without it being weird, she could see full memories. She wasn’t the most social person, but it gave her some advantages. 

However, today she really didn’t want to talk to anyone. She walked by Johansen’s desk and pang of sadness surfaced. It looked like nothing had changed. His papers were all over the place, old disposable coffee cups still not thrown out, and the smell of that cheap cologne he kept in his drawer for long nights was still faintly in the air. She wouldn’t have changed a thing about him. (Y/N) walked over to her desk and began to do paperwork that was piling up, pushing her emotions to the back of her mind. 

A few hours later, people began to trickle in. Some stopping by to ask how she was, a few commented on how she looked tired, but all of them reeked of pity. She hated it. Eventually she heard the Lieutenant arriving. She knew the conversation they would have if he saw her, so she ducked out. She made her way towards the interview rooms, hoping to hide out in one of them and get some work done. She turned the corner just in time to see an officer bringing in a man covered in blood. Another detective that she was good friends with, Detective Kassir, followed close behind.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows and walked over to another officer filing out a report outside the interview room. “The hell is going on?” She asked, annoyed that she didn’t receive a call in about this. The officer looked up from his clipboard at her and sighed. “What are you doing here (L/N).” There it was again, pity. “I really don’t want to get into it right now. What’s going on?” (Y/N) said in an impatient tone.

He shook his head and looked back down at his clipboard. “Got a call about a possible domestic dispute. Neighbour said she heard a lot of shouting followed by screaming and loud bangs later on. When we got there, we found the front door was kicked in and the wife dead in the living room. Found the guy sitting on the couch, his wife’s blood all over him. Bloody hammer on the floor beside him.” He scribbled a few things down. “A lovers quarrel that got out of hand. Pretty open and shut case if you ask me. Go home and get some rest (L/N), you look like shit.”

(Y/N) rolled her eye at him and turned to see the officer that had dragged the man in leave. "Things are rarely that simple." She said to herself as she walked into the viewing room. She sat down and looked through the two-way mirror, watching Kassir go through her routine. 

Kassir had arrive in the department only a few months ago but her and (Y/N) had really hit it off quick. She was a young detective, around (Y/N) age, and was very enthusiastic about her job. (Y/N) immediately took a liking to her and took her under her wing. She showed her the ropes and helped her with her cases when she wasn’t too busy. (Y/N) remembered what it was like being new.

“You do understand how this looks Mr. Kenneth, don’t you?” Kassir asked, placing her hands on the table and leaning closer. There was a sympathetic tone to her voice, she always liked playing the good cop. Mr. Kenneth simply stared at his hands which were covered in his wife’s blood, an emotionless expression on his face. (Y/N) didn’t need to read him to see that he wasn’t processing a word that was being said. Kassir sighed and leaned back in her chair, pushing her dark wavy hair behind her ears. “I understand this must be hard for you, but I can’t help you if you don’t give me anything.”

(Y/N) could read grief and guilt coming off the man, but she had a feeling the guilt wasn’t because he beat his wife to death with a hammer. She opened a drawer beside her and fumbled around a bit until she found a nail scraping kit. She thought she would speed things up for her friend and give her a lead to go on.

She opened the door to the interview room. Kassir looked over to her with a kind and professional smile, but she could read surprise, delight, and once again, pity from her friend. “Detective Kassir, may I have a moment to collect some nail scrapings?” Kassir nodded, already knowing what (Y/N) was up to. Her and Johansen were the only two (Y/N) ever told about her abilities.

As Kassir left the room, (Y/N) began to open the kit. “I’m going to be collecting dry blood from underneath your nails Mr. Kenneth. I promise to not take up much of your time.” She placed the sheet to collect the scrapings down and gently grabbed his hand. As she worked at collecting the dried blood, she peered into the memory he played over and over again in his mind.

Mr. Kenneth had just come back from a 24-hour convenient store when he found their front door kicked in. Him and his wife had an argument earlier and he thought the late-night air would help him cool off. He walked in to see a man standing over his wife’s lifeless body with a bloody hammer. As soon as the man saw Mr. Kenneth, he took off. Mr. Kenneth rushed to his wife’s side, shaking her and attempting to perform CPR. When he realised that he couldn’t save her, he sat on the couch, hating himself for leaving the house that night and hoping the killer would come back to kill him too.

(Y/N) finished collecting the dried blood and began to pack everything up. She felt some sympathy for the man but didn’t get herself emotionally invested in the situation. She was very good at separating herself from the mindset of others when she experienced their memories. She wasn’t cold because she didn’t care, but because she wouldn’t have lasted long in her line of work if she couldn’t distance herself. She felt everything that he experienced, but she processed it in a way that gave her an unbiased view. “Detective Kassir will be back in a little bit to get your statement. Try to answer her questions as best as you can.”

As (Y/N) left the room, she immediately came face to face with Kassir who was eagerly waiting in the viewing room. “There’s no way the husband did it, right? The guy is distraught! The blood on him doesn’t look like it came from an impact and he has no other priors.” She paused for a moment and looked at (Y/N)’s face. “Did you sleep last night? You look drained.” 

(Y/N) glared a bit at her. “So I’ve been told.” She said in an unimpressed tone. “And no, Mr. Kenneth did not kill his wife.”

“I knew it!” Kassir enthusiastically exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Home invasion gone bad?”

“Looks that way.” (Y/N) stated, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “My guess is the guy saw Mr. Kenneth, leave the house and thought the home was empty. By the expression on his face, he killed Mrs. Kenneth in a panic when he was discovered by her. He looked horrified by what he had done.” She shifted her stance a bit, looking at Mr. Kenneth finally breaking down through the two-way mirror. “Suspect is Caucasian, about 5’8, and looks to be in his late 30’s. Clean shaven with a buzz cut. It looked like he had a poorly done stick n poke tattoo of a skull on his upper right arm, probably done in prison. Wouldn’t be surprised if we have his prints on record.”

“Do you think we'll find his prints at the scene?” Kassir asked hopefully. (Y/N) shook her head. “He was wearing gloves. However, the guy seemed out of it. I bet he wanted to dispose of the bloody gloves as soon as he could, and he probably wasn’t in the right frame of mind to do it properly. Check the surrounding blocks, I wouldn’t be surprised if he threw them in a garbage can. As for Mr. Kenneth..” 

(Y/N) was cut off as the Lieutenant came barging into the room. She could read concern on him as he peered at her through his thick glasses. “(L/N), my office in 5 minutes.” She nodded and he quickly left the room.

“I bet that fucker filling out the report ratted me out.” (Y/N) stated in a huff. Kassir gave her a sympathetic smile. “As for Mr. Kenneth, check out the corner store at Main and 2nd. I’m sure they have cameras that will show him there at the time of the murder.” She handed her the nail scrapings and walked towards the door. “Keep me posted.”

“Will do!” Kassir called out. “And thank you!”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) begrudgingly walked into the Lieutenant’s office. He looked up from his work and gestured towards the chair across from him. She slumped into it, already aware of where this was going. 

Lieutenant Higgins was a hard but fair boss. He had been in the department for a long time, working his way up from the bottom. (Y/N) respected him but she had no desire to open up to him.

He folded his hands in front of him and sighed. “How are you (L/N)?” 

She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “I’m fine.”

“I know you and Johansen were close. If you need someone to talk to, I’m..”

“I don’t, sir.” The words came out a little harsher than she intended. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And that’s your problem (L/N)! You’re trying to go on like nothing happened, but it’s not healthy. Hell, you shouldn’t even be at work right now.” Higgins took his glasses of and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t mean to lecture you. You’re a good detective, and you do amazing work, but I worry about you. When was the last time you took some time off?” 

(Y/N) quickly sat up in her chair. “Sir, please. I’m fine to work, I…”

“This isn’t a debate (L/N). I’m putting you on paid leave for a few weeks. You need time to process this. You can’t do your best work when you’re an emotional wreck, and that’s what’s going to happen if you carry on like this. Go home and relax, and while you’re at it, talk to someone for once.” He put his glasses back on and looked back to his papers. “I better not see you skulking around her until 3 weeks are up.”

“Yes sir.” She said flatly and got up from her seat, leaving the room without another word. What the hell was she supposed to do for 3 weeks?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) sat cross legged on her couch, staring at the TV but not really taking in what was being shown. It had only been a few hours since she left work and she was already becoming antsy. She thought back to the dream she had last night. Maybe Lieutenant Higgins was right. She never had dreams like that before. She couldn’t remember that last time something had gotten to her in that way. Maybe she should talk to someone.

“Derry.” She said aloud, thinking back to the hat bobbing in the water. She wondered where her mind conjured that name from. She didn’t recall seeing it before, but she must have somewhere. She got up off the couch and walked to her desk, opening her laptop and typing “Derry” into her search bar. The first search response she got was for a newspaper called the Derry Herald.

“Huh” She thought aloud. “It’s a town.” Out of curiosity she clicked the link, thinking she must have heard about it in passing. She felt her blood run cold when she read today’s front-page headline.

“Body Found Dismembered Near Kenduskeag Canal”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found this chapter to be a pain to right but I thought it was important to give a backstory to the main character. Following chapters will be more interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

(Y/N) was pretty good at detecting when there was something “off” about an individual. There was a general lack of emotion to be read from them, especially in situations that would demand it. They may paint a particular emotion across their face, but the sensation wouldn’t be there, no matter how convincing they were.

That’s the exact impression she got from Derry. 

At first glance it appeared to be nothing more than a charming little town; somewhere to settle down and watch the days pass by. But it couldn’t be farther from that. It had an alarming number of gruesome deaths, much higher than the national average. The number of people reported missing was even higher, especially for children. And despite all that, the population went on like nothing was happening. Like this was a normal occurrence. How was it that she had never heard of this before? It was like the town swept it under the rug. 

(Y/N) had done her research. She noticed that a large percentage of these horrible events seemed to be on a roughly 27-year cycle. Violent crimes and missing person reports would flair up for about a year, only to die down until almost 3 decades later. If she didn’t know better, she would have guessed long standing cult activity. However, the dream she had a couple nights before gave her a small glimpse of what was actually going on.

Before she left for Derry, (Y/N) sent a text message to Kassir, letting her know she would be out of town. Kassir had pressed her for details, but she didn’t want to drag her into this mess. She told her she was going to talk to someone that was recommended to her and left it at that. She hoped that Kassir would accept this as the truth and not dig any further. (Y/N) knew very well she may not survive this, but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to what was going on like everyone else. It would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The sun had already set when she arrived in Derry. (Y/N) saw online that the Derry Townhouse had decent reviews, so she decided to stay there. When she checked in, she was surprised to hear that she had acquired the last available room. She didn’t think Derry had a bustling tourism industry but guessed it must have drawn quite the crowed for the 4th of July parade. After quickly unpacking her things, (Y/N) decided to get a bit of work done before turning in for the night. The best place for her to start would be the scene where Adrian met his end.

The river almost seemed peaceful at night. Fireflies danced among the cattails and crickets could be hear singing in the brush. Little details that went unnoticed by (Y/N) while the creature tore into Adrian’s chest cavity. She stepped carefully along the shore, looking for tangible evidence of what she was dealing with while avoiding mud. After combing the area for what felt like forever, something caught her eye. 

Entangled in the brush was a single red, deflated balloon. She quickly put on a pair of examination gloves and carefully picked it up. “I ♥ Derry” was written across the balloon in large white font. She thought back to when the creature conjured the sea of red balloons. Wasn’t that nothing more than an illusion? And if they were real, why did she only find one? She furrowed her brow and placed the balloon into an evidence bag. She didn’t remember any of the balloons having writing on them. Was this single balloon left behind meant to be a sick taunt? 

She shook her head. This balloon could have come from anywhere, there was a carnival no more than a hundred yards away. The facts that it was red could be purely coincidental. She would take it with her though just to be safe. As she began to finish up her investigation of the scene, something on one of the bridges support pillars caught her attention. It looked like blood had somehow splattered against it. How did such a prominent blood splatter get so high up? She walked closer to get an unobstructed view and what she saw caused her breath to hitch in her throat. A message was written three time in blood that seemed to defy gravity and run upwards.

“COME HOME”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It watched with delight as the Losers argued amongst themselves, fear and despair wafting from them. Separated, they would be much easier to slaughter, not that they would be a match for the eldritch entity either way. They had gotten the best of it 27 years ago, but now it would get its revenge. It looked so forward to torturing them, breaking their little minds before bringing each and every one of them back to the weeds. 

Something quickly caught its attention as the Losers began to split up from the parking lot of the Jade Orient. A sweet, unfamiliar scent cut through the air, causing its deadlights to hum in a way that was unfamiliar to it. Now what new little treat could this be? The eldritch being sniffed the air in its transparent form, carefully determining the source of the smell. 

Confusion and intrigue flowed through the creature as it realised that someone new had entered Derry right under its nose. How was it a pathetic, little human managed to cross into its domain without it taking immediate notice? Normally, it didn’t bother with outsiders, seeing them as more trouble than they’re worth, but it always sensed them the moment they arrived. There was something different about this one, something that could make things problematic if left unchecked.

It sniffed the air meticulously, searching for where the tantalising aroma was coming from. It became more curious when it determined the sent was coming from somewhere near the river. What was this new human doing down by the river, especially at night? Realization hit when it concluded that the sent was coming from the canal, causing an amused smirk to spread across its invisible lips. 

The little peeper had arrived in Derry. 

With all its infinite knowledge, the eldritch being wasn’t sure how a human managed to worm their way into its mind. It hadn’t even realized they were there until it regained some of its strength after its long hibernation. What it was sure of was that they would suffer dearly for it. They would float so beautifully as it slowly teared off their limbs one by one, prolonging their death for as long as possible.

When the eldritch being arrived at the canal, it found a young woman standing under the bridge, staring at the message it had left for Mike Hanlon to find. This little human continued to intrigue it. How was she able to see the message? It nestled itself into the brush and watched her carefully. She stood on her tippy toes, trying to reach a portion of the blood above her with what appeared to be some kind of swab. Was she a cop? No matter, it was time to have some fun. The eldritch being concentrated, trying to determine the woman’s greatest fears. 

Nothing.

No, it wasn’t that she didn’t have any fears; every human was afraid of something absurd, and she would be no different. It couldn’t read her. It couldn’t ascertain anything about her, not even a name. Her mind was completely closed off to the eldritch being, and it infuriated it. Never had it encountered something like this. It continued to watch the woman as she gave up trying to reach the message it had left. She instead took a picture of the message with her phone and then knelt down, beginning to pack some things up. 

It increased its efforts, attempting to prod into her mind. It was intolerable that this pitiful little human was keeping her fears locked away from it. It was the Eater of Worlds. Suddenly the woman stopped what she was doing, gingerly touching her temple. Interesting. Was it causing her pain? Thoughts of how it could torture her with this danced briefly across its mind, only to be snuffed out when the young woman turned to look directly at it. It stopped what it was doing and watched with curiosity. A confused expression adorned her face as she stared directly at its invisible form. Did she see it? That’s not possible, its current form was not visible to the human eye. That’s when it noticed the smallest hint of a familiar savoury scent. 

Fear. 

She had become afraid. It was faint but it was there, and oh how delectable it was. She began to reach slowly for something concealed in her jacket as she carefully stood up, not taking her eyes off the spot where it hid. She pulled out a pistol and aimed it directly at the eldritch being. It couldn’t help but watch with amusement. Did she really think such a silly little toy could possibly hurt it? It decided it was time to do a little test. It slowly moved towards her, leaving the mud and brush unaffected in its path. The woman didn’t seem to react to this, looking past its form at the spot where it originally hid. So, she didn’t see it. She only noticed when it poked too hard at her mind. It strode behind her and stopped, carefully bending down to hover over the crook of her neck. It inhaled deeply. Her scent was overwhelming up close, even with the little amount of fear there was.

It could easily kill her now, bite down on her delicate flesh and tear her pretty little throat out. No one would hear her as she choked on her own blood. No one would see her desperately grasp at the gaping wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. No one would see her eyes widen in fear, only for them to become dull moments later as she took her last gargled breath. No one but it. It could easily devour her right now, but where would be the fun in that? The little peeper was proving to be more and more fascinating as time went on. It would consume her in the end, but until then it would have fun unravelling this little mystery. 

She slowly began to lower her gun, letting out a small puff of air of what seemed to be annoyance. After a few more moments of staring at the brush, she holstered it and continued to pack things up. The eldritch being followed closely behind her as see made her way out of the canal, thinking of how it should proceed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is hard..
> 
> I was thinking of adding little drawings of important moments at the end of each chapter. Let me know if anyone is interested.


	4. Chapter 4

As (Y/N) made the slow trek back towards the Derry townhouse, she couldn’t help but feel on edge. A persistent feeling of being followed clung to the back of her neck, but whenever she looked over her shoulder there was nothing in sight. She thought back to the dull pressure like pain on her temples that she encountered at the canal. She had never experienced that sensation before. She was so convinced that it meant that the creature was there, getting ready to attack. However, as she stared down the spot where she thought it was lurking with her gun, nothing happened. 

She let out a huff of air, irritated with herself. She had only been in this town for a few hours and it was already starting to get to her. The creature wasn’t at the canal and there was nothing following her now. At the moment she had the advantage. It didn’t know she was in Derry and she knew where it made its home. However, no matter how many times she rationalized with herself, she kept looking over her shoulder. It must be the lack of sleep she told herself. She would never let herself become so uneasy otherwise. Exhaustion was playing tricks on her.

The rumbling of her stomach cut through her thoughts, making her aware of just how hungry she was. It had been quite a bit since she last ate. As she continued to walk, a small bar caught her eye. (Y/N) wasn’t one to take comfort in drink, but it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the moment. It would calm her nerves and perhaps she would actually get some sleep tonight.

The smell of spilt beer quickly assaulted her senses as she opened the door of the dimly lit bar. Neon lights from various beer brands illuminated the room to reveal tattered bar stools and old wooden tables with many scratch marks adorning them. The place wasn’t a dump per say, but it wasn’t exactly taken care of either. Had she thought that another place that served food would be open this late she would have been a bit pickier. 

(Y/N) ordered herself a burger and a stiff drink and quickly found a table tucked in the back corner of the bar. She rather be left alone with her thoughts as she ate and brain stormed ideas. She sat down and pulled out her phone, studying the picture she had taken. “Come home” she whispered softly to herself. What could that mean? This message couldn’t be for her; it made no sense. Was there someone else who knew about the creature? Could there be more than one?

She took a bite of her burger and began to dig through her bag, pulling out a sketch pad and a pen. She always liked to sketch while she worked on cases, it helped her focus. A particular detail from her dream stuck out; the old circus wagon embedded within the spire. She took a drink and began to move her pen against the paper.

The spire was made of discarded items, children’s items mostly. This made sense with Derry’s large number of missing children. Were these trophies? The creature didn’t seem to hold any attachment to them; they were haphazardly thrown about. They must have been simply discarded from the corpses it brought to its lair. Did the creature usually devour its victims there? In the dream it only bothered to drag the body into the brush to feed. There was a sense of urgency to it though; it was starving. 

(Y/N) continued to sketch the memory, finishing the details of the spire, and moving on to the circus wagon. She had quickly finished her food and ordered a second drink in the process. There was something special about the wagon. It wasn’t like the rest of the discarded items that formed the spire. When she had glanced at it through the creature’s eye, it elicited a feeling of fondness. There was something written on the side of the wagon, but she struggled to remember the details. What did it say?

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t even realize that someone was hovering over her shoulder. 

“What a lovely drawing.” A smooth masculine voice stated.

(Y/N) halted her pen and let out a silent sigh. She was not at all in the mood to deal with someone potentially coming on to her. However, she didn’t want to be completely rude and ignore whoever was talking to her either. She turned slowly in her seat to address whoever it was that had happened upon her. What she was met with was a pair of hauntingly blue eyes that immediately captivated her gaze. Something about them drew her to them in a way that she couldn’t describe but left her speechless as she stared into them. 

An amused smirk played across the man’s face. “My apologizes, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

(Y/N) blinked, realizing that she had been staring at the man for an awkward amount of time. She quickly turned back to her sketch, trying to hide her face that was beginning to turn red from embarrassment. “N-no, it fine.” She cleared her throat. “It’s just been a long day and my mind was elsewhere.” 

She internally cringed at herself. What the actual fuck was wrong with her? She reached for her drink and took a hefty swig.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but notice that the man was much taller than herself as he strode around the table, by at least a foot. The expertly tailored suit he wore only seemed to exaggerate his height. He took a seat across from her, placing his drink in front of him. “I couldn’t help but admire your work. What a surreal scene.” 

She looked up from her sketch, taking in the rest of his features. His face was perfectly sculpted with sharp cheekbones and flawless pale skin that brought out his eye in such an alluring way. His light brown hair was neatly slicked back from his face which was clean shaven. She couldn’t help but wonder what someone like him doing in a place like this.

“How did you come up with such an idea?” He asked, a flirtatious smile playing across his full lips.

(Y/N) looked back at her sketch for a moment. She had no intentions of revealing the whole truth behind her sketch, so she kept it vague. “It’s just something a dreamt up a couple nights ago.”

“Well, dreams can be quite revealing. And this sketch speaks volumes.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, studying her sketch. 

After recent events, the last thing (Y/N) wanted was to hook up with someone, but something about this man drew her in. Perhaps a drink and conversation with a charming individual would do her good. Forget her woes for a moment before potentially facing death. 

She raised an eyebrow, giving him a small smirk. “People generally don’t take to kindly to being psychoanalyzed.”

He let out a small chuckle, raising his hands out in a slightly defensive gesture. “My apologies, I meant no offence. I have a bad habit of letting my professional curiosities mix into my social life.” He looked back at her with a kind smile.

She returned the smile, tilting her head a bit with curiosity. “A psychologist then.”

“Guilty as charged.” He leaned back and shrugged playfully. “I’m guessing you do more than just sketch.” 

“Detective” she stated simply.

“Detective!” He repeated in an impressed tone. “That sounds exciting.”

“It can be, but it has it’s share of dull moments. I imagine it’s the same way with psychology.” She took another sip of her drink.

“That is true, but I would think being a detective would have many frightening moments.” He leaned in again, gazing at her intently as he rested his chin in one hand.

“Mmm, I suppose… I don’t exactly scare easy though. Wouldn’t last long in this line of work if I did.”

The man hummed thoughtfully at this, looking away for a moment. He quickly snapped his attention back at her.

“Oh, how rude of me! I never introduced myself.” He raised his drink to her. “I’m Robert.” 

She smiled warmly and clinked her glass lightly off his. “(Y/N).” 

Robert took a sip of his drink, making a subtle face of disgust at the taste. This went unnoticed by (Y/N) as she took a sip of her own. “So (Y/N), what brings a detective to a small town like this?” He asked smoothly, quickly regaining his composure. “Have the local police called you in for a case or something?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that…” She paused, trying to think of a lie. “I’m just… taking some time off work. Needed to go some place quiet to recharge.” God, that sounded nothing like her. She quickly thought of a way to avoid going into more detail. “How’d you know I’m not from around here?”

Robert let out a small chuckle at the question. “Like I said, it’s a small town.” He swirled his drink a bit in his hand, watching the liquid spin in the glass. “Besides, I’d remember seeing you.” He looked back up at her, giving her a playful wink.

It was her turn to let out a chuckle, looking down at her own drink for a moment. She should leave now. He was obviously flirting with her and this was no time to be hooking up with someone. She would be dragging him into the mess that she was headed for. She could potentially be putting Robert’s life in danger. Yet as she mulled the thoughts over in her head, something caused her to stay rooted to her seat, continuing to converse with him. 

The two of them talked for nearly an hour, discussing their childhoods and what hobbies they enjoyed. He told her about some of the work he did as a psychologist, and she told him about a few exciting cases she had worked on. It wasn’t long before the bartender announced last call, pulling them from their conversation and back to the present. 

She glanced at her phone. “1:30am? Christ…” She began to pack up her things as Robert watched her. “Not a night owl I take it?” He asked casually. She looked back to him. “Not exactly but being a detective has you up at all hours of the night.” She stood up and walked towards the bar, noticing that she felt a little bit tipsy. Robert followed close behind her. They payed for their drinks and went outside into the cool night air. The streets of Derry were quiet at this time of night.

She looked up at him with a kind smile. “It was really nice meeting you Robert, I had a great time.” He returned the smile, turning to face her. “The pleasure was all mine, but…” He stepped closer to her, staring intently into her eyes. “The night doesn’t have to end just yet.”

His blue eyes almost seemed to glow as he stared down at her, causing her to become lost in his gaze once more. It called to her, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. She felt as though there was something extraordinary about him. Something that soothed her and made her chest quiver at the same time. Something she had never felt before.

Robert’s eyes flicked from her gaze down to her lips. He stepped closer still, slowly placing his hand under her chin and gently lifting it as he leaned in. He paused as he made contact with her skin.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that buzzed through her veins. Or maybe the loneliness she had been feeling. Maybe it was that she didn’t want to think about what was to come. Whatever it was, something inside her caused her to lean in as well, placing her lips against his.

Robert hesitated for a moment, seeming to be caught off guard before eagerly aligning his mouth with hers, pressing into her in a deeper kiss. His lips worked hungerly against hers, drinking in her scent, her taste. He need more and now was his chance. His other hand slowly snaked its way around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he gently began to push her back towards the bar’s dark alleyway. 

(Y/N) was lost to the moment, allowing her mouth to open and his tongue to intertwine with hers in an intricate dance.  
He was like pure energy; electricity flowing from him to her. It caused a warmth in her chest to ignite and slowly creep its way lower. His touch was like nothing she had ever experienced. It felt so different, so natural, so…

His touch… 

It was in that moment something occurred to her. Something that should have much sooner. She quickly pulled away from him, taking a step back as she looked at him with fear and confusion. Robert furrowed his brows, giving her a concerned look. “Is something wrong?”

For the first time in her entire life, (Y/N) couldn’t read someone. She couldn’t read any emotion coming off of him, nor did she experience a memory when making contact with him. Nothing. How the fuck did she not notice this immediately? There was something very wrong with Robert.

“I…” she stammered, staring at him with a confused expression as she took a few steps back, trying the think of any excuse to get away from him. “I just realized that I have somewhere to be.” Robert slowly opened his mouth to say something but she back away further, interrupting him. “I’m sorry, it was nice to meet you Robert.” She quickly turned and walked down the street before he could get in another word. 

He watched her leave with searing yellow eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to write. I kept writing it, erasing it, writing it again, erasing it again and so on. I knew what I wanted to do but found it quite hard to flush out. I don't know how some of you write 4000+ plus word chapters, it's impressive. I'm not exactly happy with this chapter but I don't want you guys to think I ditched the story either. I know how I want this story to end, I just struggle to put it into words. I might add more to this chapter later or change a bit if I feel inspired. 
> 
> Hopefully it won't take me as long to write the next one. I'm actually pretty excited to write it. It's one of my favourite moments I play over in my head.
> 
> Also, the pictures will eventually be added. I'm trying to draw them without the people I'm in quarantine with seeing and judging me. I just need some time to myself.
> 
> Lastly, thank you everyone who left me kudos, comments, and bookmarked. You have no idea how much it means to me. I always hated creative writing in high school and thought I was bad at it. It really means a lot to see people enjoying it. I mostly just write scientific essays/papers now for university so it's kinda nice to do something different.


	5. Chapter 5

Robert stood in the spot where (Y/N) had left him for a while, replaying what had occurred over and over in his mind and not fully understanding it. She was like melted putty in his hands that quickly hardened and became unmalleable. The scent of lust and excitement had turned to fear and confusion without a moments notice. What set her off?

More importantly, what bothered him the most was what had transpired moments earlier. His intentions were to lure her into a false sense of security. He would reach slowly for her chin, make her think he wanted to engage in mindless human intimacy only for him to grasp tightly at her delicate neck and cut off blood flow to her brain. He would have rendered her unconscious and swept her back to his lair to play with and eventually devour. However, when he made contact with her skin, it threw him off guard. His deadlights hummed with excitement at her touch, something that they had never done before. He was so distracted with this new sensation that she was able to place her soft lips against his.

Her touch was overwhelming. He had never experienced this kind of interaction with a human before and didn’t know what he wanted from it at first. That quickly changed when he tasted her; he needed more. He kissed her with such urgency, such need and she reciprocated. He needed to make her his.

But then it ended as abruptly as it started. 

She pulled away and left him there, in that spot, confused and wanting more. He was furious. Not that she had stopped, but that she made him feel that way. His fangs involuntarily erupted from his gums as he watched her leave, his fists clenching as blacked claws formed. 

He was right, this human was a problem. Oh, how he would make her suffer for it.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) barged into the Derry Town house in a drunken fury, outraged at what had happened. How the fuck had she been so blind? How could she let herself become so vulnerable? That man. What the fuck was he? For all she new, he could have been the creature. He could have ended her there and she would have no one to blame but herself.

She stomped into the unoccupied bar, grabbing a bottle of scotch, and pouring herself a hefty drink. She needed to calm down. Her hands trembled as she brought the glass to her lips, promptly drinking all the contents it held. She slammed the glass down on the counter and stared at it, replaying the events over in her mind and trying to figure out what exactly went wrong. She was quickly interrupted as the overwhelming feeling of fear, confusion, and mild curiosity crept into her mind. She scrunched her nose in her own confusion. These weren’t her emotions.

She slowly turned to address where the emotions were coming from. Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes made contact with a group of people who were occupying the next room. They all stared at her questioningly as her face became red with embarrassment. One of them, a man with dark wavy hair and thick black rimed glasses piped up in an amused tone. “Rough night?” 

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, only to awkwardly close it again, caught off guard and not sure what to say. She looked the group over for a few more moments and then promptly made her way towards the stairs, eager to be rid of this embarrassing moment. As she made her way up the stairs, she heard the man call out behind her. “Drink some water!”

“Fuck off.” She replied, entering her room and slamming the door behind her.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) awoke to the feeling of her head splitting in two from last nights events. She groaned, rolling over in her bed and using a hand to block the sunlight that was oh so rudely pouring through her window. She begrudgingly untangled herself from her sheets and promptly closed the curtains to bring a stop to the assault on her visual senses. She had finally gotten some sleep, but God, at what cost?

After a cold shower, an Advil, a cup of coffee, and two glasses of water, her hangover finally loosened its talons from her aching head and allowed her to think more clearly. She thought back to the man she met the night before. The man she literally just met who put his tongue practically down her fucking throat.

Robert. 

She sneered at the thought, trying to convince herself that she was completely disgusted by him. She had no intentions of investing time into dissecting whatever was wrong with him. How she was unable to pierce his mind. He was trouble, and if she never saw him again it would be too soon. Besides, she had more important matters to attend to.

(Y/N) finished getting dressed and began to grab her things. She needed to start making a battle plan, and the best way to start would be mapping out the sewer system. Perhaps she could find old blueprints at the local library. Her assault needed to be calculated if she hoped to defeat this creature.

However, the first thing she would do today is go back to the canal. Maybe she could find something she had missed the night before. As she exited her room and locked the door she heard a commotion from downstairs. 

“Rich!” She heard a man call out. Someone came storming up the stairs, fear and annoyance radiating from him. As he reached the landing, he turned at looked at (Y/N), a bit of a smile playing across his face. “Well good afternoon Sunshine! How we feelin’ today?” 

Christ, it was the smart ass from last night.

She rolled her eyes at him as he passed her, presumably heading to his own room. Now that she was sober, he looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. Another set of footsteps came barrelling up the stairs, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Rich!” the man desperately called out again. He emerged on the landing of the stairs and stopped for a moment when he saw her. He looked at her with dark brown eyes and a worried expression, his dark hair slicked back from his face. She recognized him from last night as well. He was quite fit looking, maybe an athlete? It didn’t matter. He gave her an awkward smile and a nod before moving past her towards the room the other man just went into.

(Y/N) sighed to herself. She was hopping to stay in a nice quite place while she worked on this “case” but apparently that was too much to ask for. This town was just full of distractions. 

As she made her way down the stairs, she saw another familiar face from last night’s awkward encounter. A woman with bright red hair sat at the bottom of the steps, looking at a worn-out piece of paper. She didn’t seem to take notice of (Y/N) which was appreciated. She was too absorbed in thought, infatuation and nostalgia radiating off her. 

(Y/N) politely excused herself as she passed by the woman, making brief contact with her as she slid by. “January embers” she thought for a moment before pushing the intruding memory out of her mind as she walked out the door.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) stood on the bridge of the canal, looking into the water as she replayed Adrian’s death in her mind. She wondered if the people who assaulted him before his death were caught. She sure hoped so. Maybe she could track down his partner, he shouldn’t be too hard to find. She could get a second perspective of that night from him, see what exactly the creature she was hunting looked like. All she had to go on was that it was tall, had yellow eyes and white gloved hands with bells around the wrists. What a bizarre collection of characteristics she thought.

But how would she even strike up a conversation with this man? How would she explain herself being in Derry? “Hello sir, I was trapped in the body of the creature that ate your lover and would like to know more.” She thought sarcastically to herself. 

As (Y/N) thought about a way to approach Adrian’s partner about that night, someone violently bumped into her as they passed by on a bike, too in a hurry to take notice. She would have yelled at the person had the memory that flashed before her not left her speechless.

A flooded basement and the corpse of a young boy in a yellow raincoat yelling a nonsense phrase over and over again as his body decayed. It was a disturbing memory, and she could feel intense agony and guilt coming from the person watching the horrible scene, but that wasn’t what caught (Y/N)’s attention. A figure slowly rose from the water behind the boy. It had pale skin and a painted smile that crept up its cheeks and made its way past yellow eyes.

Yellow eyes.

(Y/N) turned to see a man in a green plaid shirt throw his bike to the ground as he raced towards the carnival ahead. He knows about the creature. He was the one that message in blood was intended for. She took off after him, yelling frantically for him to stop as he blended into the crowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray, I got inspired to write another chapter instead of studying for an upcoming midterm! I'm really excited to write about the fun house in the next chapter and I hope you guys are excited for it too. I was going to include it in this one but I thought it deserved its own chapter.
> 
> Starting now, the events in It Chapter 2 will not be exactly the same as the movie and will be drawn out much longer than a couple days. Hope you guys enjoy, the action is about to start! :)


	6. Chapter 6

(Y/N) pushed her way through the crowed of people as she desperately searched for the man who knew of the creature, but it wasn’t a simple task for her. There was a reason she avoided large crowds. Each person she brushed past left a memory, a distraction from her task at hand. It was overwhelming. She tried her best to push them away but there was always a new one to replace the discarded one. The emotions she experienced were all over the place, causing her to clutch her head in agony and pull off to the side between two tents. She needed to focus. She needed to find a specific emotion.

Fear.

It was a primal emotion that stood out from the rest. She concentrated, sifting through the onslaught around her. It wasn’t as simple as she hoped. She felt fear coming from people on amusement rides and from teenagers on their first dates. This felt like a hopeless task.

“Hey!”

The voice of a man yelling as loud as he could pulled her from her attempt at concentration.

“Hey kid!”

She looked toward the source of the yelling just in time to see the man with the green plaid shirt dart clumsily into a fun house.

“There you are.” She whispered to herself.

(Y/N) made the push through the remainder of the crowed, gritting her teeth as she tried to keep the overstimulation around her at bay. She carefully stepped through the rotating tube that was the entrance to the fun house and let out a sigh of relief as the onslaught began to die down.

She made her way past a disorienting hallway with strange floors and inflatable clowns that swung back in forth with relative ease, only to be met with arguably one of the worst places to try and locate someone in. A hall of mirrors.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She spat under her breath. (Y/N) looked at the entrance to the maze warily, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. It wasn’t long before she heard the man call out again.

“Kid! Hey ki-argh!” She heard a loud thud which she assumed was the man running into a pane of glass. She sighed heavily and dug through her bag, pulling out a marker. She needed to be able to get out quickly if things went bad. She began to make her way through the maze, keeping one hand in front of her to avoid colliding with glass and the other hand dragging the marker along the mirrors beside her to quickly mark a trail. As she made her way deeper into the maze she could make out the reflection of the man from somewhere inside the maze. 

Wait, she saw him before. 

He was with that group at the Derry Townhouse. Did they all know about the creature? 

She then saw the reflection of the kid he was chasing as well. A small boy in a jean jacket with curly dirty blond hair. Why was the man chasing the kid? Was this kid the creature’s next victim? She sped up her pursuit, her new goal to find the kid as well. She could hear the man fumbling about and cursing, obviously in too much of a panic to navigate the maze effectively. 

“Kid! Hey! Heey Kid!” There was another loud thud followed by cursing. Her hopes of this man helping her in her hunt were diminishing by the second.

“What are you doing here?!” The boy called out. “Stop following me!” (Y/N) focused on the boy’s voice and the unease coming off of him. She needed to find him quickly before the man caused him to run off.

She froze when she heard a familiar high-pitched giggle, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. The creature was in here.

She began to rush through, following the strong sensation of fear that was wafting off the boy. Frantic banging and the sound of glass being fractured could be heard coming from the same direction. She needed to get to that kid now.

She turned a corner, finding what she was looking for. The boy was trapped in a small square room, desperately pressing himself against the glass in a futile attempt to escape. On one side was the man she had been following. He was kicking frantically at the glass, trying to break it to reach the boy but with no luck. On the other was a figure smashing its face over and over into the glass, fracturing it more and more as it went on. It stopped for a moment as it stared down the boy, allowing her to take in its features.

It was a frighteningly tall man with wild red hair that tapered off into two points that resembled horns. His face was caked with white grease paint that was beginning to crack in places and his lips were a dark crimson red. A painted-on smile stretched from the corners of his mouth, past his yellow eyes and ended on his enlarged forehead. He adorned a white dirtied silk suit that looked to be of Victorian age with three orange pompoms on his chest.

The creature was a clown.

The clown peeled back his lips into an unnaturally wide smile, revealing a mouth full of frightening needle point fangs. He began to pull his head back, his mouth widening to a horrifying size, getting ready to break through the glass and clamp down on the boy.

(Y/N) quickly grabbed her gun and fired. As the clown came crashing through the glass wall, her bullet struck him in the head, causing him to let out an animalistic cry in pain as he fell through a second pane of glass out of the small square room. (Y/N) rushed over, kicking out the pane of glass in front of her that had been fractured by her bullet to gain access to the young boy.

She knelt down in front of the boy, placing her hands on his shoulders and feverishly looking him over for injuries. “Are you hurt?” She asked him, her breath shaky. The boy shook his head, tears streaming down his face as he began to break down. She could see that the clown had been tormenting him for a couple days; whispering things to him through the drain in his tub.

The sound of frantic knocking on glass pulled her from her thoughts. “Run! Its n-not dead!” The man she had been following cried.

(Y/N) slowly turned her head to the area where the clown’s body fell, only to see him looking back at her, crouched down like a predator ready to pounce with searing yellow eyes. Black blood seeped from the bullet wound on his temple and trickled upward, floating into the air and evaporating. His scowl turned into an unnerving smile, revealing his fangs that jutted out from his gums.

“Hiya (Y/N)!”

She grabbed the boy by the arm and began to run, only to feel a hand grasp tightly around her ankle, sweeping her foot out from under her. She hit the ground hard, her head smacking against the floor and her gun falling from her hand. Unconsciousness threatened to take her for a moment as she lay there in a daze. A small whimper left her lips as she felt herself being dragged back towards the creature, shards of broken glass cutting into her stomach. As the ringing in her ears cleared, she could make out the boy crying out to her to get up and the sound of the man resuming his fight with the glass that separated them. 

She quickly came to, rolling onto her back and peering down at the clown that was slowly dragging her towards him. She kicked at him desperately with her free foot, trying to loosen his grasp on her. She got in a few good kicks to his face before he grabbed her other foot, black claws erupting from his gloved hands and embedding themselves into her calf. She let out a hiss of pain, causing the clown to giggle.

“It was very rude of you to let my meal get away Little Peeper…” 

He pulled her back violently, cutting up her back on the broken glass beneath her. She frantically felt for her gun among the shards, but it was out of reach. Before she knew it, the clown was positioned on top of her, saliva spilling from his bottom lip onto her cheek.

“… but I’ll be more than happy to let you take his place!”

Her hand came to rest on a particularly large shard of glass. She grabbed it tightly, not caring about how it cut into her fingers as she jammed it into the clown’s eye. He sat up, letting out a shrike as he clawed at the shard embedded in his face. (Y/N) quickly scurried backwards, getting up and snatching her gun from the ground. She grabbed the boy’s hand and dragged him behind her as she limped towards their escape, following the marker trail she left back to safety. 

As she made her way back to the entrance of the maze with the boy in hand, (Y/N) could see the clown over and over again in the small boy’s mind. His fear was disrupting her thoughts as well as making her own worse. She needed to calm him down and divert his attention elsewhere. 

“What’s your name kid?” She asked in a calm tone. She already knew the answer but getting him talking was a good place to start.

“Dean…” The boy croaked quietly.

(Y/N) turned her head to flash him a quick smile. “Nice to meet you Dean. I’m Detective (L/N).” She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “We’ll be out of here in no time, I promise.”

The dread coming from the boy eased a bit. Memories of him watching old cop films with his family took the place of the clown. “You’re… You’re a cop?”

“Detective, please…” She stated in a lighthearted tone. 

"Like Sherlock Holmes?"

"Uhhh... sure. Kind of." 

Dean wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his free arm. “Are you here to get the clown?” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you going to kill him?” 

“That’s the plan.”

“How?”

Great, this was turning into a game of 20 questions. “I’m not sure yet…”

They turned one last corner, reaching the last stretch of glass hallway that contained the way they originally came in. (Y/N) let out a sigh, the tension she didn’t realise she was holding in her shoulders easing a bit as they walked quickly towards the way out. They made it halfway down the hallway before hearing the blood chilling giggle from close behind. It had caught up to them. (Y/N) stopped and looked down Dean, trying to appear as calm as possible. “Keep going, I’ll hold him off.”

Dean frantically grabbed her arm, tears threatening to spill again. “No! He’ll eat you!” He tried to pull her towards the exit, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she crouched and placed her other hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right behind you. Please trust me.”

Another giggle cut through their conversation. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder to see that the clown had made his way around the corner, a bizarre grin on his face. His fangs had retracted back into his gums, leaving behind a bucked toothed smile which resembled that of a rabbit. The wounds she had inflicted on his face were gone, like they were never there.

She quickly turned back to Dean and pushed him towards the exit. “Go!” She demanded as she turned to face the clown, gun drawn. Dean reluctantly turned and ran out of the maze, stumbling past the inflatable clowns that swung back at forth, leaving (Y/N) alone with the clown.

“You know (Y/N)…” He took a slow step forward, causing her to take two steps back. “I really wanted to play with you before I made you float. We would have had so much fun!” He giggled, shaking the bells that adorned his suit in a show of enthusiasm. His smile quickly fell from his face as he took another step forward. “But you’re becoming a problem for me and that just won’t do.” 

(Y/N) kept her cool, backing away while the clown crept closer. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made it easy to ignore the many cuts and scrapes that littered her body. She kept her gun aimed at him, her focus never wavering.

That is, until she felt her back press up against the glass wall that stood where the exit should be.

Her heart sank. (Y/N) slowly turned her head to glance behind her to see that her escape had been cut off. She was trapped. How could this have happened? It was open just moments ago while Dean escaped. There was no where left to run. She turned her head back to look at the clown, his grin only growing wider.

“Time to float (Y/N).”

(Y/N) pulled back on the trigger but all she heard was a click. The gun had jammed.

The clown’s grin widened still until his face was peeling back like flower petals, revealing a horrific display of teeth. (Y/N) kept her eyes locked on him as she feverishly worked on trying to clear the jam, her shaking hands making the task difficult. She was going to die here. She was going to be torn apart just like Adrian was. The clown’s face continued to peel back until light began to pour from the back of his throat, engulfing her in its glow. As soon as the light touched her face, she stopped what she was doing.

It took her breath away. Three orbs of light danced intricately with one another, leaving (Y/N) in a trance like state. They called to her with their haunting beauty, giving her a sense of familiarity without ever experiencing it. She lowered her gun and began to slowly walk towards the clown. All the fear that had clung to her had melted away, leaving her in a state of euphoria. They were something magnificent that no one was meant to see, except for her. She saw herself in them.

She wanted to be there.

(Y/N) was almost directly in front of him when she heard a voice call out from somewhere in the maze.

“Don’t look at the lights!”

(Y/N) blinked a few times. It felt like she had just woken up. Looking away from the light, she saw the reflection of the man she had been following. He was covering his eyes, stumbling around the maze as he called out to her. “Don’t l-look at them! Run!” 

What the fuck was she doing?

(Y/N) shielded her eyes and pushed past the clown. He didn’t make an attempt to grab her as she passed by, only turning to watch her with his face peeled back as she limped further back into the maze. What the hell did she just see? Those lights were wrong, like they were pulling warmth in instead of emitting it. Like they would pull in life itself, her life. She cleared the jam in her gun as she navigated the maze. The sweat forming on her skin caused the many cuts and scrapes on her torso to sting, providing a reminder that this hell was real. There must be another way out of here she thought. There has to be.

She made her way into a decagon shaped room, each side consisting of a mirror. She glanced around briefly, seeing her bloodied reflection on every side of the room. Another dead end. She turned to leave only for her to collide into another mirror which had sealed the room. She was trapped again.

(Y/N) gritted her teeth in anger. Fine, she would make her own way out. She turned to point her gun at one of the mirrors, only for her to jump back when she saw the clown’s reflection instead of her own. The clown was looking at her with curiosity, his carved brows furrowed as he studied her. 

“You continue to intrigue me Little Peeper.” He stated in a low voice.

She turned to shoot out a different side, only to see the clown’s reflection had occupied that mirror as well. She spun around quickly, looking at the other mirrors that now all contained the clown’s reflection. Her heart sank. She really was trapped this time.

“You don’t float.” His voice was coming from all directions. (Y/N) continued to spin, trying her best to keep her eyes on all of the mirrors, but it was a hopeless task. She needed to stall him while she thought of a plan.

“Who are you?” She asked with an unsteady voice, a lump forming in her throat.

An oh too sweet smile painted itself on his face. “Why I’m Pennywise, the dancing clown!” He giggled eagerly, shaking the bells that adorned his suit. (Y/N) continued to rotate, preparing herself for an attack. “What are you?” She asked in a steadier voice.

“What I am doesn’t matter Little Peeper.” Pennywise stated in a matter of fact tone. “It’s what _you_ are that’s important.” 

She furrowed her brow, taken back by the statement. “… And what am I?”

Pennywise tapped a finger on his cheek in an exaggerated manner, humming thoughtfully as if he was trying to make up his mind on something. “Why don’t we find out? Together!” His fangs began to extend from his gums once more. “Let’s do a little experiment, shall we?”

(Y/N) became more frantic as she spun, trying to decide where she should shoot. They couldn’t all be real.

“Let’s see if you survive!”

From her peripheral vision she saw one of the reflections lunge. She quickly spun to face it, firing her gun. The mirror shattered as the bullet passed through it, and with it her hopes of escape.

That wasn’t the real one.

Before she had a chance to turn around, she felt the clown’s sharp fangs sink deep into her left shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. She tried to swing her right arm around to point the gun backwards at the clown, but he grabbed her wrist with such a bruising force that the gun dropped from her hand and slid across the floor. His other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her closer towards his chest as he fed on her. 

(Y/N) struggled to break free from his grasp as best she could, throwing her head back into his face in an attempt to get him to let go, but it only caused the clown to tighten his hold. She choked on her breath as she felt him bite down harder; a warning to stay still. 

This is where it ends, she thought bitterly to herself. Her eyes closed as she prepared to feel him tear a chunk of flesh away, accepting that this is how she would die. Accepting that she had failed. She only hoped that no one would come looking for her. 

However, instead of feeling her arm being ripped clean from its socket, it was her chest that felt searing pain. An agonized gasp left her lips as she opened her eyes wide in shock. It was as if molten iron hand been placed there, burning her veins as it radiated through her body. She struggled to breath at the sensation, her vision becoming tunneled. She tried to grasp at her chest in a panic, but the clown held her steady. Death seemed preferable than whatever this was. She would have begged for it if only she could muster the words.

Pennywise carefully retracted his fangs from her flesh as she began to go limp in his arms. He licked softly at the puncture marks, listening to her shallow, laboured breaths. “You’re doing very well Little Peeper…” He cooed softly into her ear, shifting his grasp on her to a gentler embrace. “Don’t die on me just yet. There’s still so much fun to be had.”

Just like that, the burning faded as quickly as it came, leaving (Y/N) weakened and fighting to maintain consciousness as her mind clouded over. Her head lolled back against the clown, meeting the cool fabric of his silk suit. As her breathing began to return to normal, his scent enveloped her; the sweet and salty smell of cotton candy and popcorn intertwined with the unmistakable metallic tang of blood. She closed her eyes. Perhaps it was the venom he injected her with, or the blood loss affecting her judgement, but for some reason she found comfort in the scent. She felt comfort in his touch.

Pennywise let out a dark, knowing chuckle. “Oh yes, what games we will play.” He adjusted his hold, wrapping one arm around her back and the other under her legs, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. “You’re mine now.”

Suddenly, a gun shot rang out and (Y/N) felt herself abruptly falling to the ground. She slowly opened her eyes, laying there for a moment as she tried to process what was going on around her. “Get up!” the man from earlier screamed at her. Another gun shot went off followed by Pennywise shrieking in pain and anger. “R-run!”

(Y/N) shakily got to her feet, snapping back to her present situation as her vision fade in and out. She slowly limped over to the mirror she had shot out earlier, carefully stepping over it as best she could into another mirrored hallway. Leaning against the glass for support, she shakily walked down the hall, leaving a trail of her own blood smeared behind her. She had no idea where the exit was, and she didn’t have the mental capacity to figure it out in her current condition. She would follow the wall she was leaning on for as long as she could, until she found the exit, or she bled out.

Her legs wobbled as she aimlessly moved down a hallway, not really taking in her surroundings. She no longer felt the sting of the cuts or the ache of the puncture marks. No reminders that she was still alive except for the feeling of her own blood slowly dripping down her arm and a steady painless throbbing in her chest. 

Her knees buckled under her weight and she began to fall forward. She prepared for the impact of the cold floor to be the last thing she ever felt, but instead felt someone catching her and holding her up.

“Stay with me (Y/N).” A familiar smooth voice said.

She slowly looked up at the person holding her, fighting for her vision to focus on their face. All she could make out was their blue eyes before her sight faded to blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter. I would have liked to have made it longer but I lack the way of words to do it. Let me know what you guys think, it means a lot to me. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter I wanted to add before things progress. 
> 
> I can't believe this story has reached over 100 kudos! I'm incredibly flattered. When I originally posted this story I had next to no confidence in it. You guys really have no idea how much it means to me to see so many people enjoying it.

It took every ounce of Pennywise’s will power not to tear her apart right then and there. As her blood coated his tongue his eyes rolled to the back of his head. She was like nectar. Her fear the perfect seasoning to her delicate flesh. So savory and sweet, begging for him to devour her. But he held back the urge. 

He was looking for something. 

Something that shouldn’t be possible, but what had happened shouldn’t have been possible either. She looked right at his true self and she felt no fear. They didn’t break her tiny mind as she gazed into them. Not only that, he could smell they way she enjoyed them. He had never encountered something like this before and had no idea what to do as she walked towards him. She didn’t float.

She fought against him, hitting him in the face with the back of her head and breaking his concentration. He wrinkled his nose in irritation. This human was stubborn, annoyingly so. He bit down a little harder, getting his point across and causing her to settle down. Now where was he.

To his irritation, he still couldn’t penetrate her mind. This defiance was unacceptable. He should just tear her apart now, what he was looking for couldn’t be there anyway. His plans to end the Losers had just begun and she was already getting in the way. Worse off, the Losers would know about her now. Even though they stood no chance against him he didn’t need them being brought back up to seven with her in the mix. Things would be much simpler if he just killer her now.

_Wait…_

His one eye drifted off as he focused on something odd within her.

_There._

(Y/N) let out a gasp as his venom found what he was looking for. How could this be? It was dormant and small, almost insignificant but it was there. Beyond all reason it was there. He concentrated on it as she resumed her struggle, her breathing becoming panicked and laboured. It was in his grasp now. The reason she had penetrated his mind in his weakened state and the reason she keeps him out of hers. 

Pennywise made a decision, one that he may come to regret later. He could end this now, stopping further problems from arising that could possibly threaten the cozy little life he had made in Derry, but his curiosity got the better of him. His mind was made up.

_Wake up Little Peeper. Wake up._

He felt the familiar hum begin as she went limp in his arms. Retracting his fangs, he licked softly at the blood that continued to flow, savoring her taste. So sweet, if only he could have her and eat her too. But he wouldn’t let her die so easily, there was still so much more of this game to be played, and things had just gotten very interesting. He whispered praises into her ear, shifting his hold on her as he watched her breathing return to normal. He paused when he noticed something odd.

An amused grin began to spread across his blood covered face as he let out a chuckle. The fear that was radiating off her just moments ago had faded, replaced with the subtle smell of contentment. What a strange little creature he thought as he scooped her up into his arms. He would take her back to his lair to recover. He was more than eager to see what would become of her.

A gun shot rang out followed by a sharp pain occurring in Pennywise’s temple. He dropped (Y/N), clutching his head as he turned towards the direction of the gunshot. Bill stood in the now unsealed doorway to the room, gun aimed as he shook with adrenaline. It was a wonder that he managed to hit the clown at all and not (Y/N). The clown sneered at him, baring his fangs in anger. How dare he interfere. “Get up!” Bill called out to her, firing again and hitting the clown in the shoulder. “R-Run!” Pennywise let out an animalistic screech and charged, causing Bill to trip over his own feet as he ran away in terror. 

He chased Bill through the maze; not to catch him, but to create distance between him and (Y/N). He needed to think of a plan quickly. Simply taking (Y/N) down into the sewers now would not be the best course of action. It would most likely pull the Losers down their as well. With this new development, that’s something that Pennywise currently did not want. Stutter Bill would convince the other to help him save her; he felt indebted to her now since she spared him from psychological torture.

Once he was convinced Bill was far enough away, he headed back towards (Y/N). He needed to stay close to her as things progressed. He could keep an eye on her from the shadows, but she would undoubtedly notice; she had done it before when he followed her out of the canal. Perhaps a familiar face was in order.

Pennywise shifted to his more human form that was Robert Gray. He would gain back the Little Peeper’s trust as Robert, make her think that he saved her from the horrible clown. He would keep an eye on her as she recovered. He would watch the flame he had lit inside her slowly take control.

Her little Deadlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly happy with some of the wording in this chapter so I may change/add a bit later. Making things sound nice and flowy is hard. The plot points will be the same though. 
> 
> So now you know why the reader has powers. I tried to hint at it in previous chapters but I dunno if I was being too obvious or too subtle. It's hard to tell when you already know. The question now is why does she have a Deadlight to begin with?


	8. Chapter 8

Her eyes felt like lead weights as she struggled to keep them open. Each second that passed by cause her eye lids to slowly lower. Her consciousness slowly slipped away, leaving her sinking.

_Sinking…_

“(L/N)…”

Her eyes shot open as she quickly sat up, slamming her knee into the underside of her desk and causing a muffled swear to escape from her lips. She turned in her chair to address whoever had happened upon her, putting on a strained smile in a pitiful attempt to hide the fact she was in pain.

“Hi!” She said through gritted teeth, now wide awake.

The man in front of her let out a small chuckle, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides from amusement. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your nap.” 

(Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a stuttered sound as she stared at the man in embarrassment. Fuck, he probably thought she was slacking off. Not a great way to make a first impression with a fellow detective.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Hey, no need for an apology!” He interrupted. “I’m just grilling you.”

Her lips pulled into an awkward smile as she stared at him, still not feeling great about being caught sleeping at her desk. She wasn’t exactly on the clock – the sky had been dark for awhile now and everyone else had gone home for the day – but she didn’t want to seem incompetent in front of a fellow detective. She already had enough people thinking she didn’t know what she was doing around here.

“I’m sorry, it was a dumb joke.” The man stated as she pulled another chair over to sit near by. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, quickly pulling it back from his face. Her tension began to ease as she sensed no malice coming from him. His intentions were good.

“No no, you’re fine. It’s just been a rough first week…” Her smile became more genuine. 

He extended his large hand towards her. “I don’t think we’ve officially been introduced. I’m Johansen.”

She took his hand and shook it firmly, trying to make a good impression. “It’s nice to meet-”

She suddenly felt her hand slip through his own as she fell, sinking through her chair and the floor. She was hurled into darkness, flailing her arms in vain to grasp at anything.

Anyone.

It wasn’t long before she found herself falling through a ceiling. The wind was swiftly knocked out of her as her back hit a hard, flat surface which broke on her impact. Her vision faded to blackness as she lay there in the rubble, struggling for air.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A pained gasp left (Y/N) lips as she bolted up from where she was laying. What was happening to her? Propping herself up with her left arm she looked around briefly, quickly noting that she was in a dilapidated kitchen. Large cobwebs adorned the ceilings and a thick layer of dust covered every inch of the room. Broken scraps of wood and drywall littered the floor around her, making the location she was sitting in uncomfortable. However, that discomfort took a back seat to the intense throbbing coming from her other arm. 

She looked down at the cause of the extreme pain and was met with a nauseating sight. Her right forearm was laying limply across her torso; both bones clearly broken, leaving it bent in a disturbing angle. Gingerly touching her arm, she was too busy trying to fight back the bile rising in her throat to notice that the body she was inhabiting wasn’t her own.

The sound of something lightly tapping on metal was what finally pulled her eyes away from her mangled arm. Slowly looking up, she noticed an old metal refrigerator covered in rust sitting in front of her. A white gloved hand was sticking out of it, tapping its fingers along the door in a teasing manner. She stared at it, fear creeping up her neck as she tried to make sense of what she was looking at. How could someone be in such a small space?

The door slowly opened with a rusty creek, revealing a figure contorted into an unnatural position inside the fridge. She couldn’t help but watch in horror as it slowly detangled itself, the sickening sound of its joints popping back into place filling the room as it crawled out of the fridge. It was a clown.

_Pennywise._

What the hell was going on?

The clown shook itself, causing the bells on his suit jingling softly. His yellow eyes rested on her, causing an eerie smile to creep across his face. “Time to float!” He said gleefully as he bent down towards her.

(Y/N) felt her throat begin to tighten as she pushed herself backwards, trying desperately to put distance between her and the clown. That distance quickly disappeared as he took a teasing step forward, his smiling only growing wider as drool began to drip down his chin.

Her breathing began to feel constricted, causing her to wheeze loudly as she continued to move backwards. Her legs scrapped clumsily across the ground as she tried to obtain enough friction to push herself back quicker. The clown continued his pursuit, mocking her breathing as he got closer. It wasn’t long before she felt her back press against the wall behind her, no where left to go.

Her body tensed as it lunged forward.

_Then pain._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) shot up quickly from where she was laying, not noticing the person who had jumped back from her in surprise. A pained whimper snuck its way past her lips as she clutched her left arm. The wound across her shoulder stung horribly, no doubt caused by rubbing alcohol which was currently assaulting her nose with its pungent smell. 

She was disoriented, only remembering bits and pieces of what happened. One thing that she did remember was that she was sure she was going to die, but someone saved her. Slowly looking up from her wound, she noticed that she was no longer in the fun house. It took her a moment, but she finally realised that she was back in her room at the Derry Town House. There were other people in the room with her, but she was still having a had time focusing her vision to make out who they were.

Someone gently grabbed her right arm, trying to get her to let go of the injured one. The memory she was just dreaming of began to play again in her mind, the clown clutching her jaw painfully as it drooled over her fractured arm. 

“We need to disinfect the wound before we can suture it. God only knows what bacteria that thing has on it living in the sewers. You should definitely get a tetanus shot after-” 

“Eddie, are you really talking about tetanus with her right now? Look at her, she’s not even processing what you’re saying. We’re about to have a dead body here! Why the hell did you two bring her here?”

“We c-can’t leave her alone. It was after her and she’ll be a sitting duck at a hospital. She’ll be s-safe here.”

“No, she’s going to be dead here if-”

“Shut the fuck up Richie!”

She tried to push the person holding her away, the memory too much for her fevered mind. “Don’t touch me…” She couldn’t separate her mind from the memories. Another set of hands began to hold her still, causing her mind to be thrown back into the flooded basement with the rotting corpse of a little boy. It was too much. She became panicked.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” (Y/N) demanded, trying desperately to get their hands off her. In her desperation she began to thrash, opening up cuts that had begun to clot. “Get off of me!” 

“Y/N!” 

A smooth familiar voice called to her as they grabbed her right hand. She ceased her struggling, instead trying to process what was happening. All the horrible memories flooding her mind suddenly stopped with their touch. “It’s okay, they’re just trying to help. You’re safe.” 

She stopped fighting the other two who were trying to get her to lay back down, instead turning her attention to the person talking to her. She struggled to focus her vision, finally making out their blue eyes.

Her face scrunched in confusion. “…Robert?” She asked weakly.

Robert squeezed her hand reassuringly. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” A small smile playing across his lips. “Keep looking at me.”

She did as he said, looking into his eyes and allowing herself to become lost in has gaze. She didn’t even notice as the others began to suture her wounds. It wasn’t long before her eyes were too heavy to keep open, allowing her to fall back into a more restful sleep than before.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robert watched her carefully as the losers bickered amongst themselves. His jaw clenched in frustration at the situation.  
He had just brought their numbers down to six and already they were back up to seven, with someone who could actually be a threat. He would need to be careful if he wanted things to carry out as planned. However, right now there was a more important matter to attend to. He needed to make sure that she would survive long enough for her deadlight to grow.

“Listen guys, she’s going to need antibiotics and an IV drip.” Eddie stated as he paced back and forth across the room, checking his arms for any traces of blood. “Extra strength Tylenol as well to bring down her fever.”

“I don’t suppose you packed all that along with the suture kit?” Ben asked in a bit of a sarcastic tone.

Eddie stopped his pacing and looked at him, paying no mind to the sarcasm. “… I have the Tylenol.”

“Why don’t you just go back to Mr. Keen’s and force him to give you that stuff.” Richie piped up from the chair he was sitting in in the corner of the room. “I mean you said you saw him huffing something on the job. Just go back there and blackmail him. Get something fun while you’re at it, maybe some morphine.”

“Really Richie, you want to get high at a time like this?” Beverly asked him in an exhausted manner. 

“Of course not!” He said in a not so convincing way. “I was thinking of little Miss Sunshine over there.”

“I’m not going back to that fucking pharmacy!” Eddie said in a panicked voice, resuming his pacing. “Someone else can go and get puked on by that thing in the basement.”

Richie let out a heavy sigh and pulled himself out of the chair. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m keeping the fun stuff for Miss Sunshine and myself.” He fumbled for the keys in his pocket and walked out of the room.

Robert was not paying attention to them in the least. Instead he was smiling to himself. He could already smell her blood congealing and her fever subsiding. Her deadlight was beginning to slowly heal her.

“Hey uhhh, new guys.” 

Robert looked up towards Bill who was giving him a slightly uneasy look. “Keep a-an eye on her. We need figure out what’s going to happen next. We’ll be right downstairs if anything ha-happens.” Robert put on the best kind smile he could muster and nodded, eager for them to leave. Bill gave him a questioning look before turning and leaving the room with the others.

Robert carefully watched (Y/N) as she slept, observing her chest rise and fall with each soft breath she took. She was so helpless. She smelt so good. He recalled the taste of her blood as his eyes began to drift to her neck. He remembered how the thick nectar coated his tongue and dripped down the back of his throat. 

He shook his head, dispelling the thought from his mind. There would be time for that again later.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The aching in her shoulder slowly coaxed (Y/N) towards consciousness as she roller over to her left side. A small groan slipped past her lips as she slowly opened her eyes. She felt like shit; dehydration causing her head to pound and her muscles to ache. She laid there for a moment, staring at the wall as she tried to recall how she made it back to her room. It wasn’t long before the memory of the fun house slowly trickled its way to the surface.

(Y/N) sat up quickly when she remembered what happened, not caring how her body ached from the sudden movement. The creature knew she was here. It was about to rip her arms right out of its socket. Why was she back in her room? She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand rest on her right shoulder.

“Jesus fuck!” She exclaimed as she turned to see Robert sitting in a chair next to her bed. He took his hand off of her and held out in front of him defensively, showing no malicious intent. A small smile crept across his lips at her choice of words. “You’re safe.”

She let out a small sigh, allowing her ridged body to relax a bit as she realised that she was no longer in danger. “What happened?”

Robert shifted uncomfortably in the chair, lowering his hands, and allowing them to rest on his legs. “I saw you at the carnival earlier and wanted to apologise for the night before, but you ran into the fun house so quickly.” He gave her a guilty look. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything, but you looked like you might be in trouble, so I followed you in. It’s a good thing I did.”

Her hardened expression on her face melted and took on the form of her guilt slowly creeping its way through her body. “You-” She paused, swallowing thickly. “You saved me?” Robert simply smiled at her.

(Y/N) looked away from him, not able to maintain eye contact with him. She felt like udder garbage. She took her own inability to read Robert as a sign that there was something wrong with him. That he must be guilty of something. But he risked his life to save her. For the first time in her life she misjudged someone. Not only that, but now he was dragged into the mess she had made. She should have shot him down as soon as he stumbled upon her, but she let her judgement take a back seat to her infatuation. She was ashamed with herself.

“Hey.” Robert placed a hand back on her arm again, pulling her concentration back to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just-” She let out a sigh and looked back to him, a sad expression on her face. “I’m sorry.”

Robert looked a bit taken back by her apology, looking over her face carefully. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I lied to you when I said I came to Derry to get away from work. I came here because of the thing that was in the fun house.” She looked away again and rubbed at the bridge of her nose, frustrated with herself.

Robert didn’t say a word, instead thinking to himself. He was coming up with an idea.

“I came here knowing that I was putting my life in danger and I dragged you into it. I shouldn’t have-”

“You didn’t drag me into anything I wasn’t already apart of.” He interrupted, placing his hand under her chin and making her look back at him. “I already knew about the clown.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Your drawing, I’ve seen it before. It’s in the sewers.”

It was (Y/N) turn to be taken back, giving Robert a stunned look. “You- you knew?”

“Not many people do, that’s why your drawing caught my eye. I knew for sure you were here for the clown when you said you were a detective. I should have said something to you sooner.”

She should have felt relieved that she wasn’t alone in her pursuit, other people knew about the clown—about the thing that called itself Pennywise. They could help her hunt it down. But all she could focus on was how she had left Robert outside of that bar. The way she misjudged him. She felt like shit.

“How did you even find out about the clown?” Robert’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Nobody ever pays attention to what goes on here, not even the residents themselves. How did you find out what was going on?” He gave her an intense look of interest that made her feel on edge.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say. She had only ever told Johansen and Kassir because she had deeply trusted them. She had only just met Robert; how could she reveal something like this to him? He did save her life. But how could she prove it? When she did reveal her abilities to her friends, she provided proof; she told them about the memories on their minds. How was she supposed to prove something like this to a man that she couldn’t even read? She didn’t need him thinking she was insane. 

“(Y/N)?”

She blinked, focusing again on Robert. “I guess I’m just good at my job.”

Robert frowned at her answer. “It takes more than being a good detective to see past the bullshit of this town. There’s something else.” He took her hand in his. “You can tell me.”

Before (Y/N) had a chance to reply the door to the room swung open. She turned to see the smart ass from earlier, Ritchie, standing awkwardly in the doorway, clutching what looked to be a large paper bag from a pharmacy. He let out a sigh of what sounded like relief and frustration at the same time. “So, I see I potentially have a criminal record for nothing.” He stated flatly.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, giving Ritchie a questioning look as he plopped down the bag on the bedside table beside her and started to rummage through it. She didn’t notice how Robert tensed up as he entered the room, she was just happy for the interruption, even if it was from the smart ass.

Ritchie pulled out a pill bottle and handed it to her. “Here’s some Amoxi-whatever. Ed’s said you needed antibiotics. I also got you some heavy-duty painkillers and an iv, but it looks like you don’t need that anymore.”

(Y/N) carefully took the bottle, giving him an awkward side smile. “Thanks.”

Ritchie shrugged, stuffing his hand into the pockets of his jacket. “Guess you’ll have a cool battle scare from this.”

A genuine smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth. “Well it won’t be my firs-” The smile fell from her lips as quickly as it came as something dawned on her. She quickly started to stand up when Robert tried to get her to sit back down. “Hey, you need to take it slow.”

“I uh-” She stammered as she pushed his hands off of her. “I need to use the bathroom.”  
She quickly got up and walked to the bathroom, promptly closing the door behind her. The two men both stared at the closed door questioningly before Ritchie piped up. “Was it something I said?”

(Y/N) hastily removed her tank top and pulled at the bandages covering her left shoulder, not caring if she opened up the wound again or not. A hard lump formed in her throat when her eyes fell upon the large wound that was underneath. Hundreds of teeth marks littered her shoulder, some large enough that they required sutures. It wasn’t the fact that the creature had left a sizeable mark on her body that caused tears to well in her eyes. It was what was taken from her.

The bullet wound on her shoulder, the memento to the first case she and Johansen had worked on was gone. In its place was the mangled bite mark the creature had left her. She let her back press against the bathroom wall as she slowly slumped to the ground. The only thing she had left of Johansen was gone. Her loss suddenly felt more real. More so than when she first heard the news. For the first time, (Y/N) wept for her lost partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and the boring chapter. I've been very busy lately. Hopefully you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter and it will be more entertaining.
> 
> On a side note, I'll be adding a cover picture for this story with my next chapter. Hope you guys like it.


	9. Chapter 9

A hiss left (Y/N) lips as she stepped into the shower. Her raw skin was sensitive to the hot water that soaked her battered body, causing crimson droplets to run off of her from dried blood. She stared at the water until it ran clear, trying to decide what her next course of action should be. Should she ask the others for help? Would they even stand a chance? Maybe she should leave. Would she be able to sleep at night knowing she gave up? But how was she supposed to stop something like this?

She carefully washed her skin, the stinging subsiding as she became used to the temperature. She ran the pads of her fingers over some of the cuts on her stomach. They were already closed up and healing, probably wouldn’t even leave scars. She had always found her body healed fast, maybe something to do with her abilities, but not this fast. Perhaps it was something the others had put on her wounds while she was unconscious? She shook her head, deciding not to dwell on it. There was enough going on right now to worry about, why be concerned with the positive?

Turning the water off, (Y/N) stepped out of the shower, carefully patting dry her skin as to not open any wounds. She supposed she should thank the others. If it wasn’t for them, she could be dead right now. She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. As she entered the bedroom, something at the end of the bed caught her eye. She walked over, noticing it was a note with sophisticated handwriting.

“I have to step out to run some errands, but I will be back tomorrow to see how you’re doing. Get some rest. – Robert”

Robert.

She stared at the note, not quite sure how she felt about him or how she should feel for that matter. She was definitely attracted to him, but was she ready to move on? Was he still interested in her after everything that had happened? She tucked the note into her drawer, noticing that her gun had been placed in there as well. She remembered dropping it in the funhouse; someone must have brought it back with her. 

(Y/N) eyes drifted to the pill bottle sitting on top of the dresser. _Someone in the group must be a doctor_ she thought to herself. _Amoxicillin 500mg Take one capsule with food every 12 hrs until finished._ She smiled a bit. It was a nice gesture, but she had no need for it. She had always bounced back from illness quickly, never requiring antibiotics. Hell, the only medication she ever took was the occasional Advil for a headache. She threw the bottle into the drawer as well and began to get dressed. She should go talk to the others. Perhaps they knew something about the clown that she didn’t. 

She was about to go out the door when she caught a look of herself in the mirror, the violent bite mark looking back at her. Letting out a small sigh she grabbed a jacket to throw over top. The last thing she needed right now was prying eyes examining her questionable wounds.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Each step that (Y/N) took down the stairs made her more anxious. How was she going to explain how she knew about the clown? Maybe they won’t ask. No, fuck, of course they’re going to ask. Maybe she could get away with telling them a fragment of the truth; that she had a dream. Hopefully they wouldn’t push much farther than that.

As (Y/N) walked into the common room, everyone in the group turned to look at her. They all stared at her with questioning eyes, making her feel uneasy. The man she has seen before at the funhouse quickly got out of his seat and offered it to her. She could sense his gratitude. “Thank you.” She gave him a kind smile and sat down.

She rubbed her legs uncomfortably as everyone stared at her. Their emotions ranged from scared to relieved, trusting to suspicious. It was a bit overwhelming for her. “So uhhh…” (Y/N) paused, clearing her throat. “… I take it you guys aren’t here for Canal Day either?” They looked at each other for a moment before one of them spoke up. 

“You heal quickly.” The man stated. He was sitting in a chair across from her, dark hands folded in his lap as he eyed her cautiously. He didn’t trust her. 

“Thanks to you guys.” She said as she turned to address him. “I’ve had worse thought, comes with being a detective.” 

Ritchie spat out the drink he was currently nursing, suddenly nervous himself. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow to this but quickly turned her attention back to the man across from her. His distrust didn’t seem to ease, but he put on a smile and extended his hand towards her. “I’m Mike.” 

“(Y/N).” She stated as she shook his hand. As she made contact, she saw something that she didn’t quite understand. A group of people were standing in a circle, chanting something in a different language. As they did this, three orbs of light moved towards them from above. The same lights she had seen in the funhouse.

She pushed the memory out of her mind for the moment. There were other questions she had. “What was that thing? What exactly are we dealing with?”

Mike's face took on a more serious expression. “There’s an echo here in Derry. An echo that bounces back every 27 years. Its a vile creature that feeds on fear and flesh to sustain itself before it goes back into hibernation. It can tell what scares you the most and use it against you. It can take the shape of whatever it wants.” His gaze began to harden. “It controls this town, making people ignore what’s really going on around here. No one seems to notice, not even the outside world, which brings me to a question I have for you.” He leaned forward, eyeing her as if she were a suspect and he was the detective. “How do you know about It?” 

“Mike, is that r-r-really necessary?” Bill spoke up. “She risked her life to save that kid, why are you grilling her?” 

“Why was she even there in the first place?” Mike snapped as he turned to Bill. “You knew that kid was in danger because of the message It left you. But how did she know?” He pointed accusingly at her. The others watched in silence, discomfort at the situation radiating off them. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“But It attacked her!” Ben interrupted. “She was a mess when Bill and that other guy brought her here.”

“And yet here she sits, fit as a fiddle, not even a full day later.”

(Y/N) bounced her leg up and down nervously. Telling them she dreamt about it wasn’t going to cut it. “I didn’t enter the funhouse to save that kid, I entered it because I was following Bill.”

Bill gave her a confused look but didn’t say anything.

“When I touch people…” She paused and sighed. (Y/N) hated opening up to people, especially when it came to revealing her powers. She was always afraid that people would look at her like some sort of circus attraction. She had only ever told two people. Now here she was in front of a group. “I see things. Memories of that person; as if I were that person experiencing them.”

(Y/N) turned her attention to Bill. “You bumped into me near the carnival. I was only able to see one of your memories for a few moments, but what I saw was yellow eye. The only lead I had on what the creature I was hunting looked like. I followed you because I thought you could help me. Being there to save Dean was purely coincidental.”

Everyone turned their attention to Bill, who just stared at (Y/N) questioningly. “Did you see anything else?”

“A little boy in a flooded basement.”

That piece of information seemed to mean something to everyone in the room as it wasn’t just Bill’s skepticism that decreased.

She looked back at Mike who still seemed suspicious of her. “When I shook your hand, I saw something odd.” She stated, leaning towards him. “I saw a group of people standing in a circle chanting something. Does that have something to do with Pennywise?”

Mike’s facial expression softened as his suspicion faded, slowly being replaced with guilt. “We thought we stopped it when we were kids, but that echo just bounced back.” He looked towards the others for a moment before looking back at her. “We made an oath. That’s why we’re here. To finish it, for good.”

A look of confusion spread across (Y/N)’s face. “Wait, you guys fought this thing when you were kids? Why?”

“Georgie.”

(Y/N) turned to look back at Bill whose emotions began to take on a more somber tone. That must have been the boy she saw in his memory. Pennywise must have killed him. Her expression changed to that of remorse before she turned back to Mike.

“So how are we supposed to kill this thing? I shot it point blank in the head and it just got back up moments later like nothing happened.” (Y/N) asked.

“The Shokopiwah; The first ones that fought It. They fed me their sacred Maturin and showed me how It appeared to them. How they suffered and how they stopped it. They showed me the ritual of Chüd.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows at this. A tribal ritual? Did they really think what she saw would stop the creature? She wasn’t one to believe in such things. She didn’t believe in rituals and superstitions. Everything must have a logical explanation, even her abilities; she just didn’t know what it was. But then again, how could she explain Pennywise?

“That’s what you saw.” Mike confirmed. “And if we don’t kill it this cycle…” He looked to the others, sharing a look of dread between one another. “… We die.”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) asked.

“It changed us back then; infected us. It’s been metastasizing like a cancer for 27 years. It already got to one of us.” Mike looked at the ground, trying to hold back his grief. “It’s what’ll happen to all of us eventually. Unless we stop it.”

“I’ll help you.” She stated, giving a kind smile to Mike as he looked back to her. “I came here to Derry to hunt that thing down; I’ll have better luck with a group anyway.

A smile began to spread across his face before it was replaced with a confused expression. “But how did you even find out about It? You’re not from here.”

(Y/N) shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I… don’t really know.” She reluctantly stated. “I had a dream.”

“A dream?”

“I saw him kill a man named Adrian, right in front of his partner. I saw him tear that man apart.”

“What, that’s not normal for you?” Ritchie asked in a snarky tone that (Y/N) didn’t appreciate.

“No.” She stated flatly. “I thought it was just a nightmare until curiosity got me digging.”

Mike thought to himself for a moment. “Maybe it was just meant to be.”

(Y/N) tried not to roll her eyes at the statement.

“You should get some rest.” Mike said, standing up. He walked over to the doorway. “You took quite a beating and you’re going to need to be at full strength for the fight.” He gave her a slight wave to her and the others before he left.

She would never admit it, but she was still feeling exhausted and sore. Perhaps an early night would do her good for once.

“Everyone else is staying h-here, if you need help, just holler.” Bill said, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Bill by the way.” 

(Y/N) shook his hand, seeing brief images of him making a paper boat with the boy from the basement. “(Y/N).” She said, letting go of his hand. “I guess I better turn in, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

With that she said her goodnights and headed up the stairs towards her room. She felt a bit better about the current situation, having a group to help her. Perhaps she would make it out of this alive after all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A sense of uneasy slowly coaxed (Y/N) from her slumber, causing her to furrow her eyebrows as she let out a grown. Why must sleep be so hard for her to obtain? She gripped her pillow and pulled her body inward as she attempted to get in a more comfortable position, not bothering to open her eyes. She must have dreamt of something unpleasant again and had forgotten it already. That’s when an unmistakable sent began to tickle her nose. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy mixed with the metallic tang of blood. 

Here eyes shot open. She wasn’t alone. 

Rolling over slowly, she couldn’t help but notice the figure perched at the base of her bed, its glowing yellow eyes burrowing into her own. Her breath hitched for a moment as a lump formed in her throat. He had come to finish the job.

Pennywise was perched like a gargoyle cast in stone. He didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. (Y/N) couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. She stared back at him for what felt like forever, trying to think of how to get out of this situation alive. Swallowing tickly, her eyes slowly trailed to her nightstand where her gun had been left. A bullet to the head would probably put him down long enough for her get out of her room and alert the others. She slowly looked back at him. He was still frozen in place; the only sign of movement was his left eye trailing off to the side while is other remained locked onto her. 

Not breaking eye contact with him, she slowly began to reach for the nightstand drawer. Why was he just staring at her like that? Was he in a trance? It only added to her unease. As soon as her hand touched the drawer an eerie smile began to spread across his crimson lips, revealing his bucked teeth. “Let’s play a game, shall we?”

(Y/N) scrambled for the handle, adrenaline causing her hands to shake. She got the drawer open but before she knew what was happening the clown lunged at her. He positioned himself on top of her, straddling her to keep her from kicking him. Each of his massive gloved hands quickly engulfing her wrists and pinned them against the headboard. All she could do was stare at him in shock.

“The rules are simple…” He stated as he easily transferred her wrists to one hand. His other hand grabbed her face painfully, fingers digging into the hollows of her cheeks. “Scream and I’ll tear your lungs right out of your chest.” He giggled playfully. “Keep quite and I might let you live another day. Understand?” (Y/N) didn’t even get a chance to respond before the clown began to nod her head roughly for her. “Great!” He stated enthusiastically, letting go of her face. 

(Y/N) moved her jaw side to side slightly, trying to ease the discomfort he caused. She glared at him, trying her best to not show her fear. “Tell me what you are.” She demanded, her voice coming out a little shakier than she liked.

Pennywise payed no mind to her. Instead, his eyes slowly trailed down to the mangled bite mark he had left on her shoulder, his grin only growing wider. “My my…” He purred, running the fingers of his free hand along the sensitive wound. It elicited an involuntary twitch from her. “… You look beautiful with that mark I left on you. It suits you.” (Y/N) gritted her teeth, her fear beginning to turn into rage. Did he have any idea what he took from her?

He chuckled, smelling the sudden change in emotion from her. He enjoyed seeing her try to keep a brave face, attempting to hide the pain he was causing her. “Others are not so lucky to survive like you did…” He leaned in closer as he continued to stroke her wound, making sure to put a bit more pressure on the deeper puncture marks. “… To become my plaything.”

(Y/N) snapped, lunging forward as much as she could and head butting him in the nose. The blow caused him to lean back a bit, wiggling his nose in surprise and discomfort. The smile quickly fell from his lips. “There’s so much fight in you Little Peeper.” He grabbed her injured shoulder tightly, causing her to gasp in pain. “Too much for your own good.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a small whimper as she gritted her teeth. Remembering his earlier threat, she tried her best not to cry out. Warm blood began to seep from her reopened wounds, coating her shoulder and soaking into the clown’s gloves. She gave him a venomous look, trying to hide the agony she felt.

Pennywise leaned forward again, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “So sweet…” He trailed off as he let go of her shoulder. A small puff of air whistled through her clenched teeth in relief, her shoulder left throbbing. The clown began to lap softly at her wounds, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from her taste. (Y/N) didn’t dare move as he did this, not wanting to provoke another attack. However, something began to disgust her. As his long tongue slithered over her wounds, it soothed them. It felt good. She began to feel nauseated with the feeling. 

“What do you want with me?” She asked in an uneasy tone, trying to distract herself from the sensation. Pennywise licked greedily at her shoulder a few more times, trying to get every last bit of blood as her wounds began to close up. She could feel the grin form on his lips as he pressed against her neck. 

“I wanted to try another experiment with you.” He pulled away from her shoulder, face inches away from her own. “The last one went so well.” He brought his free hand to her chin again, holding it gently this time. He ran his thumb against her lips, messily painting them with her own blood. “I’m still very curious about you Little Peeper.” His fangs began to slowly extend from his gums, coaxing another spike of fear from her. The grin on his painted face grew wider as he slowly turned her head, exposing the right side of her neck to him. He drew is tongue across her pulse a few times, trying to tease out as much fear as he could from her. “Will you beg me to stop (Y/N)?” He asked gleefully as his fangs pressed softly against her neck. “Will you beg me not to hurt you again? Beg me not to _devour_ you?”

(Y/N) trembled beneath him, remembering all to well now what he had done to her at the funhouse. That intense burning in her chest was like no other pain she had felt. However, she would go though it again before giving him the satisfaction of her pleading. “Fuck you.” She spat, her breath shaky. 

Pennywise chuckled lowly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you Little Peeper.” He slowly began to sink his fangs into her neck, eliciting a gasp from (Y/N) reluctant lips. Her neck stung sharply, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as before; it was as if he was being gentle. However, she still closed her eyes tightly, anticipating the intense burning she had felt before that left her wishing for death. 

But it never came.

Instead, a sense of calm began to wash over her, her body becoming lax beneath him. What was this? What had he done to her? It felt like a drug had been injected into her veins, clouding her mind. The soothing feeling of his tongue lapping at her wounds returned, but this time it was not met with disgust from her. She didn’t even notice the small sigh that snuck past her lips. 

After a few moments, Pennywise retracted his fangs from her delicate neck, licking hungrily a few more times before bring his face inches away from her own again. Her blood was smeared messily across his own mouth now, the sweet metallic scent wafting towards her. Why did it smell so good?

“What a strange little thing you are.” He cooed, studying her dilated pupils that stared lazily back at him. “If I knew any better, I would think you were defective.” All the fear that had radiated off her moments ago was once again replaced with contentment. 

And something else.

(Y/N) mouth began to water as she stared at the blood covering his painted lips. Her stomach suddenly felt so hollow. It was as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She slowly licked the blood from her own lips, the sweet coppery taste tickling her tongue and teasing her hunger. 

Pennywise eyed her carefully, a prideful look washing over his face. “It seems someone else has a taste for blood.” He stated in a sing song voice. Placing his thumb back on her lips, he smeared them with her blood once more as he slowly pushed past them. “Don’t fret little one, I’ll share.”

(Y/N) eyes fluttered as she ran her tongue delicately over the blood-soaked fabric covering his thumb. All reasoning had left her and had been replaced with a fog and hunger that made her crave more. He allowed her to suck softly for a few moments before he teasingly pulled the digit away, a sinister grin forming. “Perhaps I can use this against you…” He stated sweetly as he leaned in closer. “Make you squirm a little before-”

Before he had a chance to finish, (Y/N) hastily placed her lips against his, kissing him deeply as she took in the taste of her own blood. 

Pennywise froze, not expecting this kind of reaction from her in the least. This wasn’t the first time she had kissed him, but before he had taken on a form that was meant to seduce her. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. That changed when he once again tasted her on his lips. He grabbed her face roughly again, snaking his elongated tongue past her lips and eagerly exploring her mouth. 

(Y/N) let out a soft moan as she tasted her own blood mixed with him, readily intertwining her tongue with his. He tasted just as he smelled, like cotton candy, popcorn, and gore. It was intoxicating, but she wanted to more. She needed more. Taking his crimson bottom lip between her teeth she bit down, causing his black blood to seep into her mouth as they continued to kiss hungerly. She couldn’t find words to describe the taste as it was like nothing she had ever experienced. She wasn’t quite sure if she even enjoyed it at first. The only description that came to mind was bittersweet. But as their tongues danced intricately with one another, the taste began to excite her. 

And just as quickly as their intimate exchange started, it ended. Pennywise broke away from the kiss, eyes ringed with red in anger. He grabbed her throat tightly, blackened claws erupting from his gloved hands and embedding themselves into her flesh. 

How dare she make him feel that way? How dare she engage in pathetic human intimacy with him as if he were her mate? As if she were his equal. He was above that; he was the eater of worlds. “You are defective.” His words were laced with venom. 

(Y/N) began to come down from her high, staring at him in horror as she struggled for air. Previous events shocked her more than her possible death that laid before her. The clown watched her struggle under his grip. He could so easily snap her neck right now, but something stopped him. He let go of her neck and wrists, allowing her to clutch her throat as her lungs frantically pulled in air, causing her to cough. He watched her for a moment before slipping into the shadows of the dark room and disappearing, now angrier at himself than her. 

(Y/N) lay there for a moment, frantically wiping her own blood off her face as she came to terms with what had just happened. She shook with disgust and anger, paying no mind to her new wounds that were already closing. She could feel tears threatening to prick her eyes and the heat coming off her reddened face. The knot in her gut made her feel nauseous. It wasn’t long before she felt the burn of bile rising in her throat, causing her to run to the bathroom just like she had done a couple nights before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to be fixing this up a bit later, I just wanted to finally get it out seeing as it's almost been a month since the last chapter. Hope you guys like it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short in between chapter.

The sickening sound of bones cracking echoed through the cistern as the eldritch being dug into a fresh corpse. He pulled back the man’s ribs one by one as if they were petals of a flower, tossing them over his shoulder without a second thought. It was effortless. He carelessly ripped out the man’s liver, sniffing it for a moment before biting into the spongy flesh.

 _Bland_ , he thought to himself, making a subtle face as the chunk of organ slithered down his throat. _And bitter_.

Pennywise threw the organ off to the side and continued to rummage aimlessly through the man’s chest cavity. He wasn’t exactly hungry; he was agitated, trying desperately to take his mind off earlier events.

He didn’t want to think about how she smelt. How she tasted.

How she made him feel…

A snarl snuck past his crimson lips as he yanked out the man’s heart, biting viciously into it like a savage animal. Disappointment crept through his mind once again at the underwhelming flavour.

 _What a waste_.

Pennywise found the man stumbling home from one of his many drunk escapades, too inebriated to understand the danger that lay before him. He laughed when he saw the 7ft tall clown in front of him.

“Carnival’s back that way pal!” The man slurred in an amused tone as he wobbled in place. 

Pennywise tried to search the drunk’s mind for what he feared the most, but the man’s inebriation was making things difficult. That, and Pennywise was just not in the right frame of mind. He was still reeling from what had happened only moments ago in (Y/N)’s room.

“Isn’t it rich?” The drunk man sang out of tune. “Aren’t we a pair?”

Annoyance began to flare in the eldritch being’s mind as the man slowly stumbled towards him.

“Me here at last on the ground…” The drunk attempted a dramatic spin and fell promptly on his ass, causing a fit of laughter to burst from his lungs. “… And you in midair.” He slowly got to his feet again, his wobbling legs making it difficult. He took a few more dramatic steps before he was right in front of the clown.

“Where are the clo-”

Pennywise lunged forward and bit into the drunk’s throat, tearing out his vocal cords with ease. The drunk didn’t even have a chance to comprehend what was going on as his blood filled his lungs. He was dead within a few moments. Dead before the fear could set in.

Now the eldritch was back in his layer, picking through the man’s organs like a child picking at vegetables on their plate. The Little Peeper had caught him off guard again; making him feel emotions that he thought he was incapable of feeling. That he was above feeling. 

_Lust_

It enraged him.

With a quick pop, Pennywise removed the man’s arm from its socket. He gave it a quick sniff before tossing it aside as well. Why did she react like that? Why did she kiss him? Why did he enjoy it?

He let out a growl as he slowly got to his feet, losing all interest in the corpse in front of him. At least there was one interesting bit of information that came out of that encounter. (Y/N) had a taste for blood.

He smirked to himself. That little bit of her he liked; he wouldn’t lie to himself about that. How long would it be before she began to feel the hunger? How long before it became unbearable? Would she even know what she was hungry for?

Pennywise turned his attention to the sunlight slowly creeping its way into his lair through the skylight above. It was almost morning. (Y/N) would probably be up soon. A wicked thought occurred to him as his form turned to that of Robert Gray.

_Wouldn’t it be nice for someone to show her?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had an edible, got inspired and decided to write a short in between for the next chapter I'm working on. I was just going to include this in the next chapter itself, but that still might be a while before it's done so I thought I'd just post it on it's own. Hope you guys like it.


	11. Chapter 11

“(Y/N)?”

The familiar voice teased (Y/N) towards consciousness but didn’t quite break the surface. The dull pain in her joints from her awkward sleeping position became noticed, causing her to groan and shift a bit. She was too tired to try and find a more comfortable position. Instead, her mind began to sink back into the murky depths of sleep, unaware of the presence beside her.

“(Y/N)!”

Her eye’s shot open and she quickly sat up, startled by the sudden noise. She relaxed when she saw Robert crouched in front of her. 

“Rough night?” He asked in an amused tone.

(Y/N) turned her attention to her surroundings. She was laying on the bathroom floor, propped up against the tub. One might assume her current sleeping arrangements were the result of a wild night. That description wouldn’t be far off, but there was no enjoyment to be had from it. Only psychological scars.

She let out another groan and leaned back against the tub, feeling more tired than usual. “I suppose you could say that.” She didn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed about her current state.

Robert held out his hand to her, trying to coax her from her makeshift bed. “I brought something that will make you feel better.”

(Y/N) stared at his hand for a few moments before finally finding the energy to take it. “I highly doubt that, but I appreciate the thought.”

Robert eagerly helped her up and lead her out of the bathroom. As they passed by the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice that her injuries from last night were gone, as if nothing occurred. Did she just have another bad dream?

Robert sat her in a chair in the corner of the room and walked away to retrieve something he had placed on the dresser. (Y/N) didn’t pay much attention to him, instead fighting to stay awake. Maybe the recent blood loss made he anemic. Before she could ponder her current state any further, he was back in front of her, holding out a container of what looked like cooked meat.

“I always eat this when I’m feeling unwell and it always makes me feel better.” Robert stated eagerly, placing the container on her lap.

A questioning look crept across (Y/N)’s face as she stared at the food. “You made me breakfast?” She looked back to Robert who nodded with a kind smile. “You’ll feel much better after you eat.”

(Y/N) looked back at the dish skeptically. It had been quite a while since she last ate, but she didn’t think food would fix how she currently felt. She picked up the fork that rested in the container and carefully prodded at a chunk of meat. What was this, steak? Who has straight up steak for breakfast? She raised the fork to her mouth, noticing that Robert was watching her intently. It was making her a little uncomfortable. She would have suspected the food was drugged or something had he not saved her life earlier. As soon as she placed the chunk of meat against her tongue her eyes widened. 

It tasted amazing.

She quickly chewed the piece of meat and popped another into her mouth, taking in the savoury taste mixed with something else she couldn’t quite place but seemed familiar. She hastily swallowed, looking back at Robert whose smile had only grown wider.

“What the hell is this? It’s incredible!”

Robert let out a chuckle, seemingly beaming with pride. “I’ll show you how to prepare it one day.” 

She smiled at that and continued eating, starting to feel better already. Maybe she was just hungry. As she continued to eat her meal, the thought of how she originally misjudged him crept into her mind. How she left him standing there alone outside the bar. He had been nothing but good to her and she had thought the worst of him. All because she couldn’t read him.

Should she tell him?

She finished eating and placed the fork back into the container, staring at it intently as her mind tried to come to a decision. She had no proof to offer him. Nothing to prevent him from thinking that she was insane. The thought of him thinking ill of her didn’t sit right with her. Was her infatuation for him getting the better of her?

(Y/N) was suddenly pulled from her thoughts as she felt a hand touch her left shoulder. She flinched, causing Robert to pull back. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Oh, uhh no. Sorry. I was just thinking about something.” She stated, a bit embarrassed by her reaction. 

Robert’s hand returned to her shoulder, running the pads of his fingers over the stitches binding the fully healed wounds. He studied them carefully, as if he were taking in every small detail. She didn’t stop him. 

“You heal quickly.” He finally stated, still examining her shoulder. “It’s only been a couple days and already the stitches are ready to come out.

(Y/N) laughed nervously. “Yeah, I’ve always healed quickly. Never been sick either.”

Robert diverted his gaze back towards her face, his interest peaked. “Really?” He asked.

“Well, I guess I was “sick” once.” She stated. “When I was born there were some complications but other than that I’ve never been sick. Any doctor’s visit after that were because of injury. I was a bit of a rowdy kid.”

“What kind of complications?” He asked eagerly, not taking his eyes off hers.

“Oh, uhhh… Well, I was originally deemed still-born. It was only a couple hours after I was born that the doctors noticed me breathing. Apparently, I scared the crap out of the guys in the morgue.” She laughed a bit but then stopped when she saw Robert’s serious expression. “I’m sorry, that was a bit dark.”

Robert blinked a couple times then chuckled. “No need to apologise, I was just thinking.” He rubbed her shoulder a bit and then finally removed his hand, standing up and walking towards the door. “The others are out looking for something; apparently reliving old childhood memories. Would you like to take a walk around town with me while we wait for them to return?”

She could feel the slight sensation of butterflies fluttering in her stomach as he smiled at her. “Sure, but give me some time to take a shower and stuff. I’ll meet you downstairs?” 

Robert nodded and then left room, leaving (Y/N) alone with her thought. She got up and walked back to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping away yesterday’s cloths. She looked at her reflection in the mirror once more, studying the new scars that littered her shoulder. How could they already be healed? 

As she waited for the water to runs hot, she returned to the bedroom, grabbing some new cloths from her luggage. She turned to place the clothing on the bed, but instead froze when her eyes met the crimson stains on the sheets.

Last night wasn’t a dream.

(Y/N) quickly dropped the clothing and reached up to her neck where he had bit her. She felt around frantically, but there were no marks left behind. Running back to the mirror, she looked over her reflection again. There was nothing there. No scabs, no dry blood, no scars. 

What the fuck was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait. I've been very busy and unmotivated lately. Hopefully there won't be as much of a wait for future chapters.


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